Magnetized
by thelonelyapple
Summary: mag·net·ize (v.) to exert an attracting or compelling influence upon. Leah never felt such a connection with anyone...until Ethan.
1. Erratic

**1 | erratic**

 **not even or regular in pattern or movement; unpredictable**

Dust swirls in the feeble rays of sunlight streaming in through the door, slightly ajar. In the cramped cupboard under the stairs, I sit back on my heels and stare at the mounds of cardboard boxes before me-some in pristine condition, and some just a gust of wind from falling apart-oddly enough, reminding me of myself.

Cleaning this mess was certainly not how I had planned to spend my Saturday morning. However, when Emily had asked me to come sample wedding cake flavors with her and Sam, cleaning was the only excuse I had been able to come up with on the spot. In the moment, however, I was glad to get away from the hustle and bustle of playing Emily's faithful bridesmaid-as if my past with Sam had never occurred. As if I had never been hurt.

A sturdy box labeled "Yearbooks" in my mother's graceful cursive catches my eye. I'd never cared much for them, but now, they pique my interest for unknown reasons. The very top book is from my sophomore year of high school-when Sam and I had still been dating.

Almost absentmindedly, I open the skinny book to where I know Sam's name will be listed next to his picture. Sure enough, there he is, with his long hair and boyish grin. My fingers linger on his face. I wonder, if shapeshifters and imprinting had never existed, if I would be the soon-to-be Mrs. Uley right now instead of my ex-best friend. The thought is bitter and angry tears prick my eyes as I quickly flip the page. Sam breaking up with me had hurt, but not half as much as Emily's betrayal had.

Through my blurry vision, a face in the corner catches my eye. Scrubbing the tears away, I open my eyes. And then everything changes.

Warmth rushes through my veins like a tsunami. My body burns hotter, but this isn't like when I phase. No, this is not the fire of phasing, but the sun itself, overpowering all my other senses.

In shock, I slam the book shut. No matter what, I cannot erase his face from my mind. Not particularly handsome or beyond average, but yet it was there, imprinted on the backs of my eyelids. And somehow, I know that that delicious burning feeling is like a drug-I have to feel that sensation again. And that burn lays inside that stranger in the yearbook.

A wave of dizziness hits me. The book thuds as it hits the floor and my head falls into my hands. What was that? A rush of emotions unlike anything I'd ever felt before, all from a picture.

I take a breath. Two breaths. Three. "It was nothing," I try to convince myself. "A coincidence. Nothing more." Taking one last glance at the yearbook, I head out to patrol, desperately hoping that this feeling will fade along with my human form.

* * *

 **A/N: It was short, I know. The next chapters and all the ones following it will be much longer, I promise.**


	2. Saudade

**2 | saudade**

 **a feeling of longing, melancholy, or nostalgia**

The familiar pull and stretch of my muscles brings me some relief, but not much. My irrational, stupid mind keeps flicking back to that boy. A stranger.

I feel Seth and Jake's presences in the back of my mind. Of course, that means my little secret is out.

Seth chortles. _Leah, thinking about a guy? Who is he?_

 _No one,_ I snap. _Mind your own damn business._ Of course, at Seth's question, I flash back to the cupboard under the stairs and the yearbook.

Seth is howling in glee-literally. _So you saw some guy in your yearbook from, like, four years ago and you have a crush on him now? That's hilarious!_

I growl and snap my jaws. Heat rushes towards my face as I turn away in embarrassment and anger.

 _Seth, stop,_ says Jake. I can sense his worry, which puts me on edge. _From what I can tell...I think Leah's imprinted._

My heart stops for a moment. Impossible. I am the female wolf, the freak wolf, who can't even reproduce. This is completely irrational and insane and it sends my mind spinning like a carousel.

 _Leah, stop!_ orders Jake as I push myself to run away. The deep timbres of his alpha voice force me to dig my heels into the ground and stop.

 _Seth, phase back. I need to talk to Leah alone._ Seth grumbles a bit but his presence soon leaves my mind.

 _It's not an imprint,_ I growl as soon as Seth's gone.

 _I didn't say it was. It just_ seems _like one...what you felt back there was pretty similar to what I felt with Nessie,_ he explains.

 _Jake, it's impossible! I can't even reproduce! You know that the Elders have said that imprinting is to strengthen the bloodlines. How is that possible if I can't even have children?!_

 _That's just a theory,_ Jake reminds me. _Besides, no one knows if Ness can have kids either._ He pauses. _I'm going to call a meeting with the Elders about this tonight._

 _Absolutely not! No one else needs to know about this!_

 _I'm trying to help you,_ he snaps.

 _I don't need your damn help,_ I snarl.

 _I'm calling a meeting, and you will come there._ The vibrations of his alpha voice are binding. I have no choice.

 _Screw you,_ I spit and phase back. How dare he meddle in my affairs?

I stagger home, still fuming. Throwing myself on the couch, I close my eyes in an effort to relax before I end up phasing again. Bad idea. _His_ face dances behind my eyelids tauntingly, as if to say, _Come and find me._

My eyes fly open. I _need_ to see his face again.

It's the wolf part of me that controls me as I scuttle back into the cupboard and pick up the abandoned yearbook. My hands know which page to open to, and my eyes know where to look.

The rush of pleasure floods me again as I gaze down at his image. The almost familiar warmth tingles as it spreads throughout my body-like a drug. I study his features carefully now-he has a very structured face with a strong jaw, accentuated by round, brown eyes and perfect teeth.

For the first time, my eyes catch the name printed beneath his picture. Ethan Rivers. The face hadn't seemed familiar to me, but now that I know his name, I remember him. We had never interacted much, save for the occasional group project or discussion. I don't think I ever gave him a second thought back in high school. Maybe the reason was that he hadn't lived on the Quileute reservation his whole life like most of us-he'd moved down from the Makah rez before eighth grade, if I recall correctly. He moved out of La Push the moment we graduated-one of the few who had.

A quiet knock on the door alerts me. My mother staggers in, her arms weighed down by groceries. I take them from her easily.

"Leah," she sighs. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I say. "Why?"

"I'm a mother, Leah. I can tell when you're upset."

I grit my teeth. I hate to be angry at my mother, but her words get my blood boiling. I _am_ upset. I just don't want to admit it. "You'll find out," I snap and stomp towards the kitchen.

"Leah," my mother says in a warning tone. "How serious is it?"

I slam the bags onto the counter. "It's no big deal."

Mom sighs heavily. "We're going to Billy's house in an hour. Be ready."

I roll my eyes and close them. _Why why why why why_ my mind asks, over and over again. Why me? Why this? Why now?

Sighing, I go to take a shower to clear my mind.

Seth has returned when I'm ready to go. I cross my arms, fully expecting him to make a comment, but to my surprise he shuts up.

Billy's house is as crowded as always. The entire pack and the elders have crammed into his tiny living room, everyone chatting cheerfully and laughing. Still, there seems to be a layer of tension bubbling just below the surface.

The chatter dies down eventually. Billy clears his throat. "We've gathered here today to discuss an important matter," he says gravely, as if someone has just died. "One of our wolves have imprinted." Billy's, as well as everyone else's, gaze sweeps towards me. I flinch at the unexpected attention.

"Impossible!" Sam stands up, his hands clenched into fists. "It's impossible. She can't even have kids!" I wince. Hearing it in Sam's voice feels like a blow to the stomach. "It's not an imprint. It can't be."

God, why is he so damn sensitive about it? My blood starts to boil and my vision turns red. "It's none of your goddamn business, Sam!" I yell. My body trembles with rage as it threatens to phase.

"Paul, take Sam outside," says Billy calmly.

The two leave and I feel a tiny bit better. "Leah," says Billy slowly. "Please explain."

I cross my arms. "It's not an imprint."

"What she felt when she saw his picture was very similar to an imprint," Jake adds. I roll my eyes.

"But is it possible to imprint through a photograph?" Embry asks.

"It's never happened before," replies Old Quil, "But it could certainly happen. All the wolf has to do is see his-or, in this case, her-imprint."

"Then it's an imprint," says Jacob with confidence. "No doubt about it."

My gut twists and I feel like throwing up. I never thought that I could actually imprint.

"What's gonna happen now?" asks Seth.

"That's up to Leah," replies Billy.

I grit my teeth. In all honestly, I have no idea what to do. My gut wrenches again. A revolting cocktail of emotions swirls in my stomach, the most prominent being utter confusion.

Vomit slides up my throat. I run outside and next thing I know, I'm throwing up all over Billy's lawn. Tears stream down my face and somehow, I _know_ that this is because of Ethan.

After everything has left my body, I curl up on the ground, sobbing. None of this is making any sense. And all I know is that this morning I was anchored; now, I'm totally adrift. I need him. And it scares me.

Strong arms pick me up and carry me home. Now drowsy, I gaze up at the stars, wondering if somehow, somewhere, Ethan is looking at them too.


	3. Solivagant

**3 | solivagant**

 **a solitary wanderer**

I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

The dreams are upsetting. It's always Ethan, standing there, waiting for me, but he is just out of reach. As soon as I approach, he fades like smoke from a candle; and then he is gone.

I wake up sweating and gasping. A bleary glance at the clock tells me it's just past four in the morning. I pad to the bathroom and splash cool water on my face before examining myself in the mirror. Physically, I don't look any different than usual. Mentally, though, I feel like a whole new person. The Leah I was this morning is not the Leah I am now. I've changed too much too quickly, all because of this stupid imprint.

My mind wanders to Ethan. Where could he be? What is he doing? I sigh and laugh at myself. How stupid is this? I'm obsessed with someone who probably has forgotten of my existence! I'm a hopeless mess. Ethan could be across the damn country for all I know, and yet I want him. _Need_ him.

I breathe in and out slowly. Inhale and exhale. My eyes slide shut. For a moment, everything is quiet and at peace. For a brief moment, my mind indulges in thoughts of Ethan. His copper skin, his inky hair, his dazzling eyes…

And then all of a sudden, I _know._ I know where Ethan is. My internal compass is pointing steadily, my gut directing me towards Ethan. For a moment, I'm utterly baffled. My mind scrambles for an explanation before it hits me—I could go to him, right now, if I wanted to.

Hesitation clouds my mind. Would that be giving in to my emotions? To the less primitive side of me, the one who craved Ethan without boundaries?

No. I refuse to make this about him. This is _my_ choice.

I close my eyes and swallow. If I don't go, how long will I be craving Ethan? Days? Weeks? Forever? The thought sends a pang through my chest. I don't want to feel the gaping hole in my chest for the rest of my life.

With that, my decision is made. I will go after Ethan, if only to rid my heart of its emptiness.

I solemnly stuff a backpack with the bare minimum, finishing my stash with my meager savings.

Finally, I scour my drawers until I find a notebook and a pen. Pulling the cap off with my teeth, I start to scribble.

 _Mom, Seth-_

 _I'm sorry to leave so abruptly. I'm not sure exactly where I'm going or when I'll be back. Just know that I had to leave. Stay safe. I love you._

 _-Leah_

I creep into my mother's room. She's sound asleep, a rare occurrence since Dad died. Sometimes I feel like her parent rather than the other way around, but this time, I want to curl up against her like I did as a little girl. I've never left her before. Blinking back tears, I leave the note on her nightstand and leave before I get too emotional.

I scuttle into Seth's room. He's curled up like a baby—an amusing sight, considering his tall frame. I hope he understands why I'm leaving. Sometimes I forget how young he actually is—his maturity really does amaze me sometimes.

As my shaky hands lock the door, I give the house one last glance. I've never ventured so far from it. And yet here I am, about to travel across entire states.

Outside, I hesitate, twisting the keys in my hand. Run or drive? I'm the fastest wolf in both packs—definitely faster than a car. But...it was better to play it safe. The chances of being spotted were too high.

Unfortunately, I never had my own car. Up until Dad... _passed,_ I had used his ancient white Cadillac he'd gotten ahold of back in '68. I swallow a lump in my throat as my eyes pan towards the garage. It had lay there, untouched, since he left. I would be the first person to touch it since he had. I inhale sharply and let it out. I am not going to get sentimental over a car.

Still, as I pull off the sheet, I can't help but marvel at the car's beauty. It had always seemed like an ugly old thing, all sharp corners and long body, but now I see it through my father's eyes. It does hold a certain charm to it.

I slide in and grip the wheel. Would approve of what I'm about to do? Somehow, I know he would. He was always big on the legends. He'd tell me that I deserved to be happy and that it was my choice to go after Ethan or not. _Tell him if he hurts my daughter, I'll kick his ass,_ he'd tack on as a joke.

My heart flutters. I can't believe that I'm actually about to do this. I want to back out, but even though I haven't even left the driveway, I know that it's already too late to turn back. So I take a deep breath, turn on the engine, and drive off.

I don't need a map—I may not know exactly where I'm going, but I have a pretty good idea. My teeth chew ferociously on my lip as I scan the roads, more absorbed in my own thoughts than the world around me. A glance at the clock tells me it's nearly six—Mom was always an early riser, she should be getting up soon. Sure enough, my phone starts ringing. I turn it off. I'll call her once I stop.

I stop in Portland when my legs start to cramp. It's almost eleven, and my stomach growls. I don't think I ate anything since yesterday afternoon.

I enter a cute little diner on the side of the road. It's pretty empty, as expected for a Friday afternoon. An old couple chatting quietly and a mother with her young son are the only people visible.

I eat alone. The son, probably only three or four, gapes at me over the back of the booth in the way kids do. I chew my eggs and stare back. I can never have kids. The sting of the statement has eased over time. It's just a fact now. _My name is Leah Clearwater. I am twenty years old. I can never have kids._

I leave before I overthink it.

A while later, I pull up near a motel that has a neon green "vacancy" sign and looks like it can fit in my scanty budget. After getting a room, I toss my backpack on the floor and grab my cellphone. First things first—call Mom.

She picks up as soon as it rings. "Hello? Leah?" she says frantically.

"I'm here, Mom."

"Where are you?" she cries. "What is this, Leah? Why would you run away?"

I bite my lip hard. "I didn't run away. I'll come back."

There's silence for a brief moment. "This is because of that boy, isn't it? Your imprint?" she asks in a low voice.

I sigh. "This was my choice."

She breathes deeply. "Is there any way I can convince you to come back?"

I swallow. "No."

A sigh. "Stay safe, Leah. Call me whenever you can."

"Of course. Take care of Seth, okay? I love you," I breathe into the phone.

"I love you too, honey. Be safe."

I hang up and toss the phone onto the bed. Now what? I'm far from tired. If this were La Push, I were home, I would just be getting ready to go on patrol. But here, in Portland, spirit warriors are nothing but a distant fantasy.

My cheek rests against the cool glass of the window. It feels nice against my sweaty face. Outside, lights are sparkling and a thin layer of fog settles beautifully over everything. It's so different from the deep forest that I know like the back of my hand. It's just another thing that sets me apart from everyone else here.

I ache to experience it—to pretend to be someone I'm not. So I do. Pulling on a coat for appearances' sake, I head out.

It's freezing outside, as expected for January. Still, the city is alive and thriving. It strikes me that it's Friday—most people are out celebrating the upcoming weekend. Smiling at the sheer normality of it all, I carry on.

I like being in the city. La Push is such a tiny place that everyone has known everyone else for their whole lives. Here, I am unknown, a stranger. I'm not the girl who went crazy after her boyfriend left her, or the girl whose father died. No one in this crowd of thousands knows so much as my name. And the fact that here I could be anyone is comforting.

As the streets start to slowly empty, I head back to the motel. After a long shower, I fall into bed, truly content for the first time in months.


	4. Besotted

**4 | besotted**

 **strongly infatuated**

I wake up sweating, shallow gasps leaving my lungs with an unusual ferocity. I blindly hit the power button on my cellphone. Squinting past the harsh light, I see that it is 3:59 AM.

With a sigh, I fall back. It was another dream about Ethan—a different one. In my dream, I had gone and spilled everything to him. Me being a wolf, the imprint...everything. And what had he done? Pushed me away and continued on with his life. The possible reality of the dream left a bitter taste on my tongue. All last night, my mind was off of Ethan, and for the first time in forever, I had truly, wholeheartedly enjoyed myself. But, of course, now my mind had to remind me that everything was about Ethan now. After all, he was the one thing that was supposed to make life worth living-—the one I was supposed to care for, to protect...the one that would give me strength.

Yet, he knew nothing of this. Who knew if he would even accept it, when he found out?

I roll to the other side of the bed. Who said he had to find out? The imprint just required that I be near him, not have any relations with him. I could just linger in his shadow my whole life...a depressing scenario.

With these thoughts whirring in my mind, my eyes flutter shut.

The sun dancing across my eyelids is what jolts me awake in the morning. My body is unusually exhausted, and my stomach is growling, but a sense of relaxation is about me as I pack up and check out. As I get into the car, ready to drive again, I look out at the city one last time. I think I'd like to return back, someday.

In Canyonville, I stop to get food and fill up my tank. I'm getting closer.

Almost four hours later, I stop in Red Bluff for a late lunch. Ethan is close, I can feel it. I am nowhere near prepared to see him, and yet, I cannot wait. My mind is abuzz. There is no choice but to go.

The primitive, animal part of me takes charge as I practically sprint towards the car. The sun is setting, and I hate driving when it's dark, but how long am I going to torture myself? I can't stand waiting the whole night knowing that he is only a few hours away.

A mad drive later, it is almost midnight and I stop. He is so, so close. There isn't even a need to drive anymore. Parking in the lot of some random building, I stumble out of the car. The night air is refreshingly cool on my feverish skin.

Where am I? It seems like it should be familiar. Not like I'd been here, but rather like I had seen a photo of it at some point. Long, sloping streets; tiny, colorful houses...where had I seen that before?

My blood tingles in my veins. The wind whispers in my ears. So close.

I walk down the street, letting my body guide me, pausing in front of each house. No, not this one. Not this either. I finally stop in front of a pistachio green house with a wide window. This is it. Ethan is inside.

I close my eyes. Finally. The butterflies in my stomach flap violently, until I realize that panic has begun to set in. I am too much of a coward to do this...to face Ethan.

Staggering back to the car, I collapse in the backseat. I came all this way just to back out. No matter how much I had convinced myself that I could do this, that I deserved to be with my imprint, it all crumbled away on his front steps. I am hopeless.

I quietly cry myself to sleep in the backseat of my car in a strange city, feeling more alone than I ever had before.

* * *

 **A/N: This is the last of the angst for a while :) Any guesses as to which city Leah is in?**


	5. Serendipity

**5 | serendipity**

 **luck of finding valuable or pleasant things that are not looked for**

The sun dancing across my eyelids is what wakes me up in the morning. My limbs are sore, my mouth feels like cotton, and my stomach is hollow.  
At that moment, last night's events hit me like a truck. I don't even know what to think. My mind has gone completely numb, like I'm mindlessly watching a movie of my life rather than living it.

My lungs draw in air and breathe it out. I have to think rationally. First things first—food.

I stumble out of the car and stretch. The cold air pricks at my skin, and it feels refreshing after the sweaty night in the car. I probably look like a mess. Digging out a water bottle from my bag, I rinse my mouth and finger-comb through the snarls in my hair.

I turn and start to jog down the street. My breath fogs up in front of my face. I must look strange, out and about in the middle of January in my jean shorts and old t-shirt. But then, as Elsa famously said, the cold never bothered me anyway.

I stop at a Chevron and grab whatever I can until my arms are laden with junk food. I'm absolutely ravenous. After asking the lady at the counter (and getting strange looks), I found out I'm in the city of San Francisco. Huh. Now that I know, it seems almost stupidly obvious.

Tearing into a pack of Chex Mix, I head back to the car and dump everything into the backseat.

Now what? Go home? It seems disappointing, to come all the way here just to go back. But what other choice is there, really? I've made up my mind that I will not interact with Ethan. It was delusional to even think that anything could happen.

I sigh. I guess I'll go home.

As I turn around, I notice a dark flash of hair, and my heart stops. Eyes the color of chocolate lock with mine, and my world crumbles away once again.

The fire in my chest flares up, and my heart is thudding like fireworks are going off. My mind is screaming at me to get in the car and leave, but my heart pulls me towards him. I stand there, stunned in his gaze, like an animal in the eyes of a predator.

He looks unsure for a moment, but starts to head towards me. Oh, God.

"Leah? Leah Clearwater? Is that you?" he asks. I can't believe he can still recognize me, especially with my short hair and added height and muscle. He smiles, revealing dimples I'd forgotten he'd had.

My heart thuds out of control. I remind myself to calm down. I was always the picture of confidence, not the stammering mess I am right now. I just have to pretend he is just like any other person. I smile back at him. "Ethan! What a coincidence!" I stop myself from snorting. Coincidence, my ass.

"Wow, it's so great to see you again. So how're things going? You and Sam married yet?" He flashes those perfect teeth at me.

"Ah...no. We broke up a while ago, actually."

"Oh, shit, I'm so sorry, I didn't know."

I shrug in response.

"So…what're you doing here? If you don't mind me asking, that is."

"Just traveling. See the world a bit, you know?"

His eyes light up. "Really? I-" His phone buzzes loudly, breaking his attention away from me. "I gotta go," he says urgently, "but why don't we catch up tonight? You know, get coffee or something?"

I can't help but smile. He's so cute. "I'd love to."

"Cool! There's a great place on 18th Street. I'll meet you there at four, yeah?"

I laugh and nod. He smiles, waves, and runs off. As soon as he's out of sight, I sag against the wall in relief. I didn't mess up.

I'm not just relieved, but euphoric. I can't stop smiling. I feel like a middle schooler with her first crush, but I don't care. Even though I don't know him quite yet, Ethan is more adorable and charming and brilliant than I could have ever imagined.

I stop that thought in its tracks. It doesn't matter how Ethan is. I am not here to fall in love with him, despite the other imprint couples. I am not even here to be his friend. If my time with Sam had taught me anything, it was that relationships we complicated and messy. I did not need anything like that with Ethan. I was just here to see him, to cure my craving.

But why was my heart already hurting from his absence, even if he was only a little while away? I guess seeing him had made my wolf side inexplicably attached to him. How was I supposed to survive when I was back in La Push and he was still in San Francisco?

No. No more angst. I didn't come all this way to suffer; I had come for relief. Time to live in the present, not the future. Imprinting had made me break down, to have a lapse in character—not anymore. Bossy, arrogant, tough Leah was back.

With that thought in my head, I stand up straighter, unlock my car, and drive away, unsure of what the evening would bring.


	6. Epiphany

**6 | epiphany**

 **a moment of sudden and great revelation or realization**

After checking into a very crappy motel and dumping my stuff down, I dig my phone out and clicked the only contact in my favorites list. It rings twice before she picks up. "Hello?"

"Leah?"

"Mom!"

"Oh, honey. How are you doing? Where are you?"

"San Francisco. I found him, Mom."

She exhales slowly. I can't tell how she feels. "You did? How is he?"

"He's...I don't know yet. We're meeting in the evening. Enough about me! How's everything in La Push?"

She laughs. "It's going great. You might want to call Emily, though."

"Emily? Why?"

"She's pretty pissed that her bridesmaid ditched her only a month before the wedding."

"A month? Oh, dear! I wonder if I'll make it back in time," I remark, my voice heavy with sarcasm.

Mom laughs, bringing a smile to my face. Over the phone, the doorbell rings. "Oh, I should get that. Call me when you can, okay? I love you."

"Love you too." I hang up and toss the phone on the bed before flopping down on it. I look at the time. It's only twelve. What to do now?

I play around on my phone a bit, looking at the time what feels like every five seconds. As unhappy as I am to admit it, I can't wait to see Ethan.

I fall asleep for a while. When I wake up, it's a bit past three. I shower, throw on some clothes, and jog to 18th Avenue. I spot Ethan just entering some coffee shop. I follow him in. "Hey, Leah," he greets. He's smiling like I'm his favorite person in the world. Warmth swells in my chest and I can't stop myself from smiling back. "Sorry for leaving so suddenly before. I had a lunch date with my girlfriend."

He has a girlfriend? It irks me, although it shouldn't. I don't have any claim to him. "Fun," I say. It comes out horribly sarcastic.

He blinks. "...Yeah."

Embarrased, I change the subject. "So, why'd you pick this place?" It's very hipster-like, but still has a classy touch. Unfortunately, there's a long line as well. We join the end of it.

He shrugs. "I used to work here a few months ago. I quit soon after, but I still like to come here."

"What do you do now?"

He runs a hand through his hair. "Nothing, right now. I just got back from Yellowstone two days ago, actually." He grins.

"Yellowstone?"

"Yeah, I love to travel. Especially outdoorsy places. It was great, it's gorgeous in January," he says, already pulling out his phone to show me pictures.

He's right. It is beautiful. His eyes light up as he goes through pictures of snow-covered trees, of enormous bison, and even a little black bear. The last picture is taken from a large distance, but it's undeniable that it's clearly a medium-sized dark gray wolf. "Do you like wolves?" I ask, trying to sound vague.

"Dunno. I never really thought about it."

I sigh and lean back. "You're a good photographer."

He laughs. "I'm a terrible photographer. Sophie, my girlfriend, took most of them."

 _Sophie._ The name twists in my gut like a dagger. "Yeah? How is she?"

He smiles, but it's a bit off. It's strange how I'm already so accustomed to his "normal" smile. "She's...amazing. She's badass and gutsy and brutally honest, but still the most caring, generous, and intelligent person you'll ever meet. Pretty much everything I could want in a girl." He looks down in embarrassment.

I'm floored. He clearly loves her a lot. I should be happy for him. So why do I feel so crushed?

It's our turn in line. He orders a cappuccino. I order ginger tea. We sit down. "So," he says. "How're things in La Push?"

I wave my hand vaguely. "You know, the usual. Not much has changed."

He laughs. "Good to hear. I haven't been there since graduating," he muses.

"Really? Why?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. Doesn't really matter. I'm hardly ever here, anyway."

I raise an eyebrow, silently asking for an explanation.

"I travel around most of the time. I only came here cause my dad was here, and I was planning to attend University of San Francisco to be close to him and all. But I didn't really know what I wanted to _do,_ y'know? So I kind of...drifted. Then I decided to take a break, see the world a bit with the inheritance my grandfather left me." He smiles a half-smile. "So I guess I never really looked back. I think I'm going to go back to school eventually, though."

I take a sip of my tea to stall. Ethan is like an open book. He's so willing to let me in on his life...something I couldn't do easily.

"So, that's pretty much my life story," he says lightheartedly. "What about you? What has the fantastic, destined-for-greatness Leah Clearwater done since high school?"

I sigh. "Not much. There were some...ah...family issues at home. I stayed close to home and my mom, mostly. I work as a...um...ranger sometimes."

"A ranger?"

"Yeah. There's been some sketchy stuff happening in the forest near home for a while now. Some guys and I just keep patrol. Nothing big."

"Do you like it?" he asks, seeming genuinely interested.

"Barely. I'm going to quit as soon as I can."

He looks a bit surprised, but doesn't say anything. "So how long are you here for?" he asks, taking a sip of his drink.

"I'm...not sure."

"Hmm," he says, lost in thought. "Hey," he says suddenly. "You should come over for dinner tomorrow. I'm sure my dad would love to see you again. And you can taste some of my famous cooking," he adds jokingly.

I laugh. "I'd like that."

We exchange numbers and head our separate ways. Each step away from him damn near kills me, but knowing that I'll see him again in less than twenty-four hours is a relief.

I can't stop thinking about him. I'm giddy thinking about his smile and the color of his eyes. And the best part? He's so easy to get along with. Even if I had never imprinted on him, I still think I'd want to get to know him more.

As I'm walking back, fantasizing about tomorrow, my phone buzzes. Assuming it's my mother, I pick it up without glancing at the name. "Hey," I say.

"Leah!"

"Emily?"

"Where have you _been?_ I've been trying to call you for the past hour and a half!"

"I was out with a friend."

"A friend?" she scoffs. There went my good mood. "Sue told me you were in San Francisco! What are you doing there? You know I'm getting married in a month! I need you!"

I roll my eyes. Emily wasn't generally a rude person, but I guess the wedding stress was finally getting to her. "I'll be back by then," I say. "This is just something I had to do."

"What? Go to another state, on impulse, without telling anyone first?"

I sigh. Might as well tell her. "Did Sam tell you I imprinted?" I ask.

"You imprinted?! When? On who?" The rudeness of her tone has simmered down to a concerned curiosity. It almost feels like we're friends again. Almost, but not quite.

I tell her the whole story—going through the yearbooks, seeing Ethan, and ending up here, all in the course of a week. When I end with our very recent coffee shop meeting, Emily sighs. "I'm happy for you, Leah. Really. I'm so glad you've found someone." Her tone in genuine and tears spring to my eyes. I'm strangely touched.

"Thank you."

"But...that does explain a lot," she says.

"What do you mean?"

She sighs again. "Sam's been acting strange lately. He's been bitter and angry at everything. At first I thought he'd changed his mind about marrying me, but when I asked, he assured me that that wasn't it. I was so confused. But I think I get it now." She pauses. "Sam still has feelings for you, Leah. And he's jealous of your imprint."

"That can't be true."

"It is. You were his first love. He's bound to still feel for you."

I snort. "If you think that's it, you can tell him that I'll kick him in the nuts once I get back. He's getting married in a few weeks, for God's sake!"

Emily sighs. "I can't blame him."

"What do you mean?"

Another sigh. "Never mind. We'll talk once you get back, okay?" she says and hangs up abruptly.

I stare at my phone in confusion. What had happened to make her hang up so quickly? And what the hell was Sam thinking?

I tuck the phone back into my pocket, dazed and overjoyed and anxious all at once.


	7. Quondam

**7 | quondam**

 **that once was; former**

Ethan texts me his address, not knowing that I already know where he lives, and orders me to come at six. At five forty-five, I drive to the pistachio-green house with the wide window and stand there, palms sweating. I'd gone to buy a bottle of wine earlier today, and thrown on a cheap bow as a gift. Now, though, I realized that I had no idea if Ethan or his father even liked wine. Oh, well. It was the thought that counted, right?

I ring the doorbell. Ethan opens it, a soft smile on his face. My heartbeat slows down and I instantly feel more at ease near him. It was a stark contrast to my first time seeing him, where I'd felt my heart was going to burst out of my chest. Maybe it was because I was more familiar with him now, like one gets used to taking a certain drug. "Hi," I say, smiling back.

"Hi," he says back, letting me in. I present him the wine. If he doesn't like wine, he does a good job of not showing it, which I appreciate. He leads me to the living room, where a familiar figure is sitting.

I didn't remember how Ethan's father looked, but now that I see him, he's unmistakeable. I never saw much of him back when he was in La Push, but he always had a distinct regalness about him that was unforgettable. Even now, he's dressed up in a dark gray suit and a black shirt. His chin is held high and his thinning hair is combed back neatly on his head. His contrast to Ethan, who is sporting a t-shirt and jeans with adorably messy hair, is almost laughable. "This is Leah," Ethan says to him. "Sue Clearwater's daughter, remember?"

Ethan's father's dark eyes turn to me. For one second, something in his gaze makes me think that he knows my secret, about the shapeshifters. "Leah," he says. "You've certainly changed." I want to shrink back under his gaze.

I fidget a bit with my sleeve. "Have I?" I mutter in reply, my thoughts elsewhere.

"Yes," he says. "You used to look like your mother."

I purse my lips apprehensively.

Ethan is oblivious to our exchange. After all, he's just a human, unaware of the world of magic that surrounded him. I almost ached for that kind of obliviousness. But then again, without shifting, I would have never met Ethan again.

Would I have still held a level of attraction for him if I had met him and I hadn't ever shifted? I don't know. I like to think I would have, but there's no way I could guarantee that.

We sit down at the large wooden dining table. Ethan has really outdone himself. A variety of dishes are scattered on the tabletop. A couple I recognize, the others are completely unfamiliar. "I thought you were kidding when you said you could cook," I tell him.

He rolls his eyes. "Kidding? I'm the best damn chef you'll ever meet."

"I'll be the judge of that," I tease.

We sit down. I take a little bit of everything. Just as I'm about to take a bite, the doorbell rings. A glance at Ethan's face tells me he wasn't expecting anyone. Still, he stands to open the door.

A very... _interesting_ looking girl steps through the doorway. She's short and slim, with pale skin and narrowed eyes. But that's not what stands out most. Her hair is eye-catching, to say the least—choppily cut and dyed an electric blue, save for the bangs, which are a bubblegum pink.

"So, I was going through some of my stuff and…" she rambles as she starts to walk inside like it's her own house. She suddenly stops as her eyes land on me. Her eyes, a soft brown, widen slightly. "Who's this?" she blurts, then blushes as she realizes her rudeness. "Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt."

"It's fine," says Ethan calmly. His eyes flick from me to her, as if he's not sure what to do. Ethan's father is solemn besides me. I don't think he's even noticed her presence.

The girl clears her throat at the awkwardness. "I'll...just come back later, yeah?" She shuffles back outside.

Ethan closes the door behind her and sits back down, strangely stiff. "Everything okay?" I ask gently.

"Yeah, yeah, everything's great." He smiles a plastic smile. Maybe it's just the imprint, but I know it isn't alright.

"If you say so," I mutter nonetheless. I'd be keeping an eye on him, though.

We begin to eat. There's a stuffy sort of silence. Mr. Rivers is studying me with hard eyes throughout the meal. It makes me uncomfortable, to say the least. I wish he wasn't here.

I catch Ethan alone in the kitchen as I'm putting my dish away. "Do you want to take a walk or something?" I breathe. I really, really don't want to have to face Mr. Rivers again this evening. He looks like he's about to say no, but something in my face convinces him otherwise.

We head outside into the cool night air. I almost sigh with pleasure as it hits my skin—it was getting too hot inside. Ethan watches me carefully, hands shoved deep into his pockets. "What?" I ask lightheartedly, trying to get him to smile.

He does smile, but it's not the same. "Nothing."

I step towards him without really meaning to. "Ethan?"

"Hmm?"

"Who was that girl?"

His lips purse. "That," he says, "was Sophie."

At first I think I've misheard him. "Sophie? As in, your girlfriend Sophie?"

His lips turn into a frown. "Not anymore." He's clearly more upset than he's letting on. I'm fairly sure she was the one that broke up with him. And as much as I want to be happy he's not with her anymore, I feel a spark of anger. How could she hurt my Ethan like this?

"What happened?" I ask gently.

He clears his throat. "It's nothing. Let's keep going." He turns away.

My shoulders sink and I'm strangely crushed. Of course, I shouldn't expect him to spill everything—I still don't know him too well, despite the connection I have towards him. Yet, it stings that he doesn't want to open up to me.

I walk alongside him in silence. I'm still frustrated that he won't say anything. "You know how Sam and I broke up?" I find myself asking him.

"Yeah, I think you told me."

"I never told you why."

He arches an eyebrow. "Is this the part where you tell me you're actually a serial killer?" he jokes.

I roll my eyes. The only "people" I've killed are vampires, and they're hardly human enough to count anyway. "Hardly." I clear my throat. "He...ah...left me for my best friend."

His eyes widen. "Are you serious? You guys were so...perfect together." The way he turns away makes me think he was going to say something else, but I brush it off.

"Love's a fickle thing, I suppose. You think you love someone, but then you meet someone else and...everything else becomes history." I bite my lip. I didn't mean to spill so much.

I feel his fingertips brush against my arm, sending sparks down my spine. "I'm sorry," he says.

"There's nothing to be sorry about. I guess we just weren't meant for each other."

"Still, that's a pretty crappy thing to do."

"I don't blame him anymore. There are some things that can't be helped. He never meant to hurt me." I realize the truth in my words as I say them aloud for the first time. Up until very recently, I'd hated Sam for breaking my heart. It was always _his_ fault; _he_ was the bad guy. Really, though, he wasn't. I know he didn't choose to fall in love with Emily; it just happened. I understand that now.

He sighs. "You're right," Ethan murmurs. He takes a breath. "You know, Leah? I just feel like...I don't know. I feel like we're, like, meant for each other, y'know? Not even in a romantic way, just as friends. Like you came here and we were meant to meet." He shakes his head. "Is that weird?"

I'm surprised at his words. I knew the wolf who imprinted felt like that towards the imprint, but I didn't know it went both ways. "Not at all," I murmur. "I feel the same way." If only he knew.

He nudges me with his shoulder playfully, and I nudge him back. We go on for a while, just chatting and walking into the cool night.

What Ethan needed right now was a friend, and that's what I would be for him. Nothing more.


	8. Dichotomy

8 | dichotomy

a contrast between two things that are opposed or entirely different

When we reach the house, Sophie is there. She's curled up on the couch, legs tucked underneath her, chatting easily with Mr. Rivers like it was the most natural thing in the world. How come he wasn't shooting _her_ glances?

Ethan stiffens as soon he sees her. I wish I could wrap my arms around him—comfort him. But I can't, it's too soon.

All conversation stops as soon as Sophie spots Ethan. She stands suddenly, heading towards us. There's a smile playing on her lips, but to my surprise, she's looking at me rather than at Ethan. "Leah, right?" she says. I nod warily. She nods back, almost to herself, as if assuring herself. "I'm Sophie."

"I know." Yes, I admit I was a bit sharp. She hurt my imprint, how else was I supposed to act?

She isn't at all fazed by my words. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard quite a bit about you."

I arch an eyebrow. How much had Mr. Rivers told her? "Likewise," I mutter.

She turns to Ethan. There's no coldness in her tone as she says, "I think I left my sweater here the other day. Have you seen it?"

"Yeah. It's in the closet."

For some odd reason, she starts laughing. "Unlike me, am I right?"

"What?" I blurt.

Ethan glares at Sophie. She grins back sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Wait, what?" I say again. Sophie is _gay?_

"Yeah. That's why we broke up," Ethan mutters, rolling his eyes.

"Oh. _Oh._ Well, that does explain a lot." A lot, indeed.

"I'm sorry," Sophie says, touching Ethan's arm. She sounds genuine, her tone heavy with sorrow.

"It's not your fault," he says. Regardless, I can see how it's tearing him up inside, to be loving her when she can't love him back in that way.

There's an awkward silence permeating the air. "I should leave," I mumble. "It's getting pretty late." Ethan just nods, lost in his own world.

After getting my phone, I say goodbye to Mr. Rivers (who responds with a cold "Goodbye") and go to leave.

"Bye, Leah," says Sophie. Ethan is still staring into the air with glazed eyes. I wave at Sophie and go outside.

As I'm driving back, I can't help but dwell on what I'd found out about Ethan and Sophie's breakup. Despite the fact that she was Ethan's ex, I hoped that they could still be friends. Maybe it would make Ethan less miserable—something that hurt me _a lot._

My phone rings loudly, jerking me back to reality. Fumbling blindly in the dark car, I somehow manage to hit the correct button. "Hello?"

"Leah," he whispers hoarsely. His voice brings back a thousand memories of walks on the beach, of nights spent sneaking out, of passionate kisses in the woods. We've talked since then, of course, but this is the first time he's talked to me directly. I blink back a sudden onslaught of tears. "Come back," he begs.

"I can't. And I don't want to. Not yet, anyway."

"He's not right for you."

"Please. The imprint is never wrong."

"It is!" he yells. "It was wrong for me and it's wrong for you!"

I take a deep breath before I explode. "You didn't say it was wrong when you first imprinted."

He sighs.

Red flashes my vision. "Don't tell me you're jealous," I say warily. "Don't do this to me, Sam."

He's silent.

I laugh. It's not funny, not at all, but the whole situation is so ridiculous that I can't help it. How many times had I imagined this conversation before Ethan had come into my life?

"Leah…"

"You're getting married in less than a month! How could you do this to Emily? How could you?"

He's silent for a long moment. Then I hear the gentle beep as he hangs up the phone.

* * *

 **A/N: I'm horrible, I know. I was pretty busy for a while, but updates should be more frequent now.**


	9. Diverge

9 | diverge

to go in different directions from the same point, or to become different

I'm still glaring at my phone when it suddenly rings. I slam down on the green button, ready to give Sam a piece of my mind, when I hear Ethan say "Leah?"

I take a deep breath. "Hey, Ethan." The bite in my tone is still lingering, and to me, it seems painfully obvious. Apparently, it's prominent to Ethan as well.

"Everything okay?" he asks.

"Yeah. I just got a call from Sam," I say with chagrin. "He was being kind of a jerk."

"Oh. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, no, I'm fine. Why'd you call?"

I can almost imagine him tapping his fingers against his thigh, like he does when he's nervous. God, how am I already so accustomed to his habits? "I wanted to apologize with whatever happened today, you know, with Sophie."

"Oh, don't apologize for that." It was awkward, sure, but it's not like I'm going to be angry about it.

He laughs nervously. "I'm pretty sure having an ex crash on a first date is one of the awkwardest things that can happen."

My eyes widen as his words register in my mind. "That was a _date?"_

"Jeez, I guess I really failed, huh?" He laughs a little. "I mean, I guess having my dad and Sophie there wasn't the best."

"Not at all. It's just that you didn't mention it being a date."

He pauses. The silence swells uncomfortably until he says in a low voice, "If I has told you it was a date beforehand, would you have still come?"

If I was being nice, I would have said _Yes, of course._ But just by Ethan's voice I can tell he doesn't want nice. He wants honest. "No," I say slowly. "Don't get me wrong—you're great, Ethan. It's just…" My breath comes out strangely shaky. _It's just that you don't really like me and it's just a side effect of me being able to shift into a giant wolf and some magical bond that just exists so that we can make more wolf-babies. But, oh wait, I forgot, I can't get pregnant!_ I almost laugh imagining his reaction to that, but I compose myself. "I'm not looking to date anyone right now, Ethan. I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise."

He's silent for a moment. "I get it," he says cheerfully. Regardless, there's still a hint of disappointment at the edge of his tone. "No worries."

"Thanks for understanding."

"Don't worry about it." There's a pause. "Would you still want to hang out tomorrow? As friends, of course."

I grin, pleased that he's taking it in stride. "I'd love to."

We make plans for him to pick me up at ten the following morning. "What are we gonna do, anyway?" I ask.

I can almost see the toothy grin that I'm sure he's sporting. "You'll find out," he says mischievously.

I roll my eyes but there's a smile on my face. "See you tomorrow, Ethan."

"Goodnight, Leah."

I go up to my room and immediately curl up on the bed, exhausted. Tomorrow isn't a date and I don't want it to be. Then why is my stomach fluttering and my heart pounding?

This feeling isn't unfamiliar. I recall narrating these exact feelings to my mom the night before my first date with Sam, when I was just barely fifteen years old.

 _What if he doesn't show up? What if he doesn't like me anymore after?_ I recall asking her.

She'd shaken her head, a small smile on her lips. _Leah, honey, you're still young. Sam may be your first boyfriend, but he won't be your last._

All through the next two years, her words had lingered in the back of my mind. Needless to say, I disagreed with my mother. Of course Sam and I would stay together. We had the kind of relationship everyone desired, the kind you really only see in movies.

In the end, though, I guess my mother was right.

I wonder, if I had known Sam would have imprinted on Emily from the very beginning, would I have rejected him that sunny Friday afternoon he'd asked me to the movies, adorably nervous the entire time? I myself wasn't sure.

My happy memories of past Sam quickly fade when I remember my conversation with him earlier tonight. How dare he be mad that I was finally moving on? That I was healing? I guessed he missed me pining after him. Selfish prick.

Irritated, I push Sam out of my mind, letting thoughts of Ethan lull me to sleep instead.


	10. Ephemeral

10 | ephemeral

lasting for a very short time

As promised, Ethan is standing outside at ten o'clock in the morning, leaning casually against his car texting. His hair is adorably messy from running his hands through it, I presume.

He looks up when he hears me approaching, his expression twisting into an uneven smile. "Morning," he greets, holding out a white styrofoam cup. I take it from him gratefully as he says, "It's ginger tea."

"You remembered!" I grin.

He smiles in response.

"What are we doing today?" I ask, taking a sip of my tea.

He doesn't respond, just opens the passenger door of his car. I slide in. When he takes the driver's seat, he says, "I thought I'd take you to see the bridge today."

"The bridge?" I say blankly.

He throws me an _Are you dumb?_ look. "The Golden Gate Bridge?"

"Oh." I redden.

"You haven't been there, right?" he asks. I shake my head. "Honestly, I don't think it's all that impressive," he says, "but it's the tourist-y thing to do, I guess."

"I'm excited," I reply. Excited to see the bridge, but more excited to spend the day with him.

He tells me a bit about the bridge's history as we go there. "I didn't know you were such a history buff," I joke.

He shrugs. "I've picked up random bits and pieces from traveling."

"Where are you planning to go next?" I ask.

"Japan."

"Why Japan?"

He shrugs again. "I threw a dart at a map."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. I have the money for it, so why not?" He grins.

I swallow at the thought of him in Japan and me in La Push. I could barely stand nights with him only a few miles away; how was I going to survive with him across the globe? God, I was so attached to him already, it was almost embarrassing. It's just the imprint, I remind myself. I'll survive...somehow.

He pulls into a parking spot. I gaze up at the looming reddish-brown structure. Ethan may not think it was too great, but I had to admit, it's pretty impressive. It's very picturesque. I should've brought a camera.

"I should've reminded you to bring a jacket," Ethan says, looking at my t-shirt and shorts. "You're going to freeze."

I shake my head. "Don't worry about me. I don't get cold." It's too late, he's already shrugging out of his hoodie. "Ethan. Stop," I say, reaching out to touch his arm. "See? I'm already warm."

He stares dumbfounded at my hand on his arm. "Jesus Christ, Leah, you're on fire." He grabs my fingers. "Are you running a fever? Maybe I should take you back."

I pull my hand away, internally sighing. I was going to have to tell him about being a shapeshifter eventually. But for now, a lie would suffice. "I'm always like that, Ethan. Relax."

He gives me a doubtful glance, but continues walking. "At least you're wearing proper shoes," he remarks, glancing at my sneakers. "It's about a three-mile walk across."

"Let's do this," I grin back. I suddenly remember our conversation from the car. "Ethan?" I say softly.

"Hmm?"

"I know you like to travel...but how long has it been since you've been to La Push?"

He shoves his hands into his pockets and sighs. "I haven't been back since high school," he admits.

"Why?" I ask.

He purses his lips. "I dunno. I never got along well with my mom, I guess. I do miss my sister, though."

"Isabelle," I recall. She was a year older than Seth, if I remembered correctly.

He nods. "I'll have to go back someday," he sighs, "but not now." There's a pause before he says, "When are you going to go back?"

 _Not until you do,_ I want to say. But then I regain my senses and say, "I don't know. I didn't really plan it out." I sigh. "Sam and Emily are getting married at the end of the month, though. I'll have to go back for that."

"You're going to their wedding?" he asks in surprise.

"I'm a bridesmaid."

"But...why? I mean, aren't you...?"

He doesn't need to elaborate for me to understand. "It's not their fault Sam impr-I mean, fell in love with Emily. Some things are just meant to be, I guess. I'm not going to be the one to stand in their way." I'm pleased to find the bitterness from my tone has vanished, but only for a moment before fear gnaws at me as I realize it's because I myself have imprinted.

Ethan is just opening his mouth to speak when my phone rings. "One second," I say to him, digging it out of my pocket. I glance at the caller ID, fully expecting it to be my mother, when I see the words flashing across the screen. Why is Jacob calling? He would never call, unless...unless there was a pack emergency.

My heart stops as I pick up the call. "Jake? What happened?"

He sucks in a breath. I was right. "Seth's hurt."

My stomach plummets. "What happened? How bad is it?"

He sighs. "There was a rogue vampire checking out the area. She probably tracked the Cullens' scent and wanted to investigate. Seth was on patrol, the two crossed paths, and...it didn't go well for him."

Anger flares as I imagine the vampire who had hurt my brother. "I'm coming back," I hiss and hang up, already running towards Ethan's car.

"Leah! Wait!" Ethan yells. "What happened?"

"Seth's hurt," I breathe back. "Badly. I need you to take me back to the motel, _now."_

He doesn't ask questions as he drives me back. My fingers dig into my palms with worry, making cuts that heal almost as soon as they appear. How could anyone hurt Seth? He was too young; too innocent. If anyone should have been hurt, it should have been Jake. He could handle it. But Seth...Seth was weak. As much as he liked to pretend he wasn't, he was the most fragile out of the pack.

Ethan pulls up in front of the motel. I jump out, dash up to my room, grab my stuff, check out, and rush back down. Ethan's standing there, head down. A pang of guilt reverberates through my chest at the thought of leaving him so soon, but I have no choice—family comes first, always.

Without thinking, I throw my arms around him and hug him tight for a brief moment. "I'm sorry," I whisper. I really am.

"Wait," Ethan says. "I'll come with you."

I pull back and stare at him. "Ethan-"

"I know. I sound crazy. I don't know why, but...I can't have you leave me, Leah. Let me come with you."

I close my eyes. I knew spending too much time with him was a mistake. Because of the imprint, he's just as attached to me as I was to him. But I don't have time to deal with this now, so I just nod.

Ethan offers to drive until we're out of the city, explaining that he's more familiar with the streets. Had he been anyone else, I wouldn't have been so trusting. But this is Ethan, and I can see right through him. He genuinely wants to help. So I give a small nod and take a seat in the passenger seat of my car.

The traffic moves like a snail. A growl of frustration escapes my lips as I imagine how much faster I would be in wolf form. I could make in there in half the time, I bet. But then again, a giant gray wolf running through the streets of San Francisco would be conspicuous, to say the least.

Ethan isn't as impatient as I am. It's not his brother that could be on the brink of death. But he still does his best, even running through a stop sign or two for my sake, which I appreciate, as stressed as I am.

"Why don't you take a nap?" he asks a while later.

"No."

"Leah, we're not going to get there any faster than this. Relax."

I glare at him, a spark of rage suddenly igniting in my chest. "Don't tell me to relax, goddammit! You don't _understand!_ Seth's _hurt,_ and you want me to _relax?"_

He grips the steering wheel tighter. "Calm down. I was trying to help."

"Well, you're not helping! Just shut _up,_ okay?"

His lips press into a thin line. "Whatever." His throat moves as he swallows hard. Ethan may be stubborn; but so am I. So I cross my arms and lean back in the seat, lips pressed together in anger.

Despite everything, the soothing movement of the car and the gentle sound of traffic eventually lulls me to sleep.


	11. Apoplectic

**11 | apoplectic**

 **overcome with anger; extremely indignant.**

Through my groggy, sleep-heavy eyes, it takes me a moment to realize where I am when I wake up. The sun hangs low in the sky, not quite afternoon but not sunset either. How long did I sleep?

Ethan is still driving, stone-faced. A brown paper bag sits on the glove box. "I got you food," he says solemnly.

I open the bag and am immediately assaulted with the wonderful scent of grease and salt. "Thanks," I say warily. "Did you eat?"

"Not hungry," he mutters.

"Ethan. Don't be stubborn. Eat."

He throws me a glance. God, is he still moody from our argument?

I sigh. How could I ever stay mad at him? "Alright, fine. _I'm sorry_ for being such a bitch. Happy?"

He smirks and grabs a fry from the bag, and for some reason, I can't help but smile.

* * *

As night falls, Ethan and I switch spots. I hate driving at night, but it makes me feel better that I'm not alone. At least I won't die if we get stranded somewhere—I hope. The good news is that we'll reach La Push early in the morning.

Ethan falls asleep quickly, head lolling against the back of the seat as his chest rises and falls with gentle breaths. He looks so much younger asleep.

I suddenly turn away, my face reddening. What am I doing, staring at him while he sleeps? For the leech that married Bella, it might've been romantic, but to me, it just feels incredibly creepy.

How did I end up like this, driving back from California with a man who I'd forgotten existed until a week ago? The wolves who'd already imprinted were right, it did screw you over in the best way possible.

But I don't love Ethan. Not in the way Sam loves Emily. Not even in the way Jacob loves Renesmee. Ethan's more like...a friend. Not a lover, or a brother, or a thing that needed to be protected at all costs. And I'm okay with that. But...was he? After all, he'd asked me on a date. There had to be some level of attraction there. I wonder why the imprint affected us both differently in that way. Or maybe...it wasn't the imprint. Maybe he's genuinely attracted to me. No, that's ridiculous; he barely knows me.

I perk up as my surroundings gradually become more and more familiar. Then it's four AM and I'm pulling up in the driveway and throwing the door open and running to the front door, Ethan abandoned from my mind for the moment.

When I throw open the door, the scene is not nearly as bad as I expected. I expected Seth to be on the brink of death, my mother crying over his limp figure. I guess I'd let my imagination run a bit _too_ wild. In reality, Mom is bent over Seth's legs, poking and prodding at them. While he does grimace every now and then, at least he's not dead.

I stagger over to the pair. Seth notices me first, his eyes lighting up. "Hey, Leah," he grins.

"Shut _up._ I leave for less than a week and you almost kill yourself? _God,_ Seth," I groan, but he knows I'm just relieved he's okay. "What's the diagnosis?" I ask Mom, who's in full-on nurse mode.

"We'll have to rebreak and adjust the bones which have healed improperly," she says. I wince. "But he should be fine."

I sigh in relief. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Jacob has entered through the open door. "You. Me. Outside," I say to Jake.

He looks confused, but patters through the front door. Stroking Seth's forehead one last time, I follow Jake outside. As soon as we're out of earshot, I punch him _hard,_ unleashing the force only a shapeshifter could.

"Ow!" he yelps. "What the hell!"

"How could you let him get hurt? You're his alpha! You're supposed to protect him!"

"I'm not his babysitter! He can take care of himself!"

"He _can't,_ Jake! He's too young!"

"He's fourteen. That's old enough."

"It's not!"

"Leah?" a voice says. I turn to see a very confused-looking, messy-haired Ethan. As soon as I see him, I can't help but calm down. I can't risk hurting him by shifting out of anger. Not like Sam hurt Emily.

"Who're you?" asks Jake, utterly baffled.

"This is Ethan. My... _friend."_ Jake's eyebrows shoot up as he realizes what I'm implying.

"Is everything okay?" Ethan asks, looking between the two of us. "I woke up and you weren't there. I was worried."

"Sorry. I went to check on Seth. I didn't want to wake you up."

"How is he?" Ethan pauses. "And what happened to him, anyway?" A guilty expression crosses his face as he realizes his straightforwardness, but I don't mind.

I blurt out "car accident" the same time that Jake says "cliff diving accident." Ethan frowns in confusion, then Jake, with his everlasting intelligence, tries to cover up by saying, "He drove a car off a cliff!"

Ethan's eyebrows raise. "He... _drove a car off a cliff?"_

"No!" I exclaim. "It was just a car accident, no cliffs involved. Jacob's just confused." I glare at him over Ethan's shoulder. Jake just shrugs and grins. I fight the urge to stick my middle finger up at him. "Let's just go inside," I say to Ethan.

He rocks back on his heels precariously. "Actually, I think I'm going to go visit my mom and sister."

I nod. "Alright. You can take my car if you want."

He shakes his head. "It's not too far, I'll walk. I'll stop by later, okay?" He awkwardly pats my shoulder before turning around and stumbling down the driveway. I watch Ethan's figure disappear into the foggy morning.

" _That's_ your imprint?" Jake asks as soon as he's out of earshot. "Damn, Leah, I thought you could do better than that."

"Yeah, and I thought you could do better than a freaky half-vampire baby."

He frowns, but doesn't say anything. I turn on my heel and stalk back towards the house. The situation inside hasn't changed much.

"What happened to the leech that did this?" I ask Seth, suddenly curious.

"She got away," Seth groans.

I sigh. "You stupid, irresponsible prick."

"Love you too, Lee," he jokes.

I sink down to my knees next to the couch and stroke his sweat-soaked hair. "I'm glad you're okay," I mutter quietly. "But if you pull a stunt like this again…"

"Yeah, yeah," he groans, but he's grinning. "Tell me about your imprint."

"There's nothing to tell."

"When do I get to meet him?"

" _Never._ I'm _not_ getting Ethan involved in pack matters."

Seth's eyes widen in awe. "So you're not going to tell him? Ever?"

I groan. "I'll have to at some point, but definitely not now."

Seth flops his head back down onto the couch. "What's it like? Imprinting?"

What was it like? I couldn't describe the feeling; there wasn't anything I could compare it to. "Strange," I mutter. "Exhilarating. Unreal."

He purses his lips in apprehension. My mother pats his shoulder in comfort. It's only then I notice the glimmer on her left ring finger. "What the hell?" I ask, grabbing her hand. "Please tell me this isn't a new ring." She'd stopped wearing her wedding ring after Dad had died, saying that she couldn't bear to look at her hand and be reminded of him every time. She had a ring on again, but this gaudy, shimmery thing definitely wasn't the thin, simple band my father had given her.

Mom flushed, pulling her hand away. "I was going to tell you when you came back...Charlie proposed, honey."

No. No. "How could you not tell me?" I shriek. For the second time this morning, I tremble as my body threatens to shift. "How—what—? Agh!" I spit in frustration. "How could you? How _could_ you?" I'm not talking about her not telling me anymore and she knows it.

I've never made my mother cry, but now, her lips quiver as she's on the verge of tears.

"Leah-" Seth tries to say.

I turn on him, gritting my teeth. "No! Stop! Just shut up!" My vision goes red, and then it all happens so quickly.

"Mom! Move!" I hear Seth yell. There's a flash of light and then my body's contorting uncomfortably and my clothes are tearing and then I'm standing above them on all four paws, teeth bared and claws out.

The fear in my family's eyes is clear. Mom stands protectively in front of Seth, arms splayed to cover him. He peers around her, eyes big and round and sorrowful. They're scared of me.

The weight of shame fills my chest. The fear in Mom's eyes is unmistakable. I almost hurt them. Just like I'd hurt Dad.

Letting out an apologetic whine, I squeeze through the front door and run to the woods, trying my best to escape the sudden wave of guilt.


	12. Propinquity

**12 | propinquity**

 **the state of being close to someone or something**

I dig my nails into the rain-softened soil before springing off and dashing around the territory border. Faster, faster, _faster,_ until the wind rushes past my ears and brings tears to my eyes. Until my muscles scream in protest and my legs burn.

A familiar laugh causes me to come to a screeching halt. Ethan. What's he doing in the woods? Panic flutters in my chest as I recall the nomad bloodsucker that hurt Seth. If she came after Ethan...

A high-pitched female voice blends with Ethan's deeper, rougher one. I peer around the trees. Isabelle, of course. She hops nimbly over fallen branches and logs, chattering to Ethan about anything and everything. Ethan's absorbed in her words completely, eyes bright and a small smile playing on his lips.

Seeing him causes my heartbeat to gently settle back to normal. He's my sedative; the only thing that could calm me down right now.

His eyes suddenly land on me. I freeze, trying to seem as unthreatening as possible, but it's too late. His eyes widen as he grabs Isabelle's arm, hissing at her to be quiet. Her eyes follow his to my figure and widen with fear. Ethan steps backwards, his eyes glued on me. I watch, helpless, as the pair slowly backs away out of the woods.

I sink down and rest my head on my paws as they fade out of sight. Ethan's scared of me, too. The Leah who he laughed with in the car over shitty pop songs and greasy fries isn't the same creature standing before him now. To him, I've become a freak, a monstrosity. I want to tell him this isn't the real me, but that would be a lie.

Swallowing hard, I stand up and pad quietly through the serene forest back towards home. I don't want to have to face Mom again, but I also don't want to stalk naked through the woods for the rest of the night.

I can see Mom through the kitchen window as I approach. Her hair covers her face so I can't study her expression, but I doubt she's feeling on top of the world right now. Guilt pangs through my chest. In an attempt to avoid her, I phase back and climb in through my bedroom window before throwing on a t-shirt and shorts. My stomach growls. I haven't eaten since the fast food Ethan had bought me in the car. I find a protein bar wedged in my bedside drawer and eat it slowly, contemplating as I chew.

Mom's getting remarried. It was something I never thought I'd have to face. My mother was not the kind of person to date when her husband died. When she first told me she was dating Charlie Swan, I honestly did not expect it to last. She was grieving, I told myself. She'd forget about Charlie eventually. But when weeks of them dating blossomed into months, I began to feel unsteady. But I never thought he would propose, and definitely not so soon after Dad's death. Did she really love Charlie the way she had loved Dad? Probably not, or else she would've married Charlie back when they were young. Dad would always be first in her heart. I guess...I'm upset because it means she's moved on when I haven't. Did I want to? Ugh, this is all so frustrating. I wish Ethan were here.

Would we have to move in with Charlie? Ugh, I hope not. And then Bella would be my step-sister, _ew._ This family already has too many monsters.

I stand up and trudge down the hallway to the living room. Seth's eyes are glued to the television, for the moment, his pain forgotten. ¨Is that Spongebob? Aren't you a little too old for that?" I ask, taking a seat on the floor next to the sofa.

¨No," he says in a clipped tone, still focused on the characters prancing on screen. I guess he's still mad at me, too.

I roll my eyes. Leaning my head back against his legs, I close my eyes. Like this, it almost feels like my family's normal again. If only Dad were down by the river, coming home with fresh fish any moment now. I wonder what he would think of Mom marrying Charlie. He'd be happy, I think, that she was going to marry someone he trusted. Someone who he knew would take care of her. So why can't I be happy for them?

Mom steps into the room, a bowl of stew for Seth balanced in her hands. She gives me a glance as she sees me, but doesn't comment. Despite not being happy with her getting remarried, I can't help but stand up and hug her. She doesn't deserve to be yelled at. ¨I'm sorry," I whisper.

She pats my back in comfort. ¨I know."

I squeeze back tears. ¨Not just for yelling at you. I'm sorry I'm a bad daughter."

¨Oh, honey, you're not a bad daughter."

¨I'm twenty years old. I dropped out of school. I don't have a job. I'm totally dependent on you! And I almost...I almost hurt you!"

She pulls back and looks at me straight in the eye. ¨Leah, you are a protector of this tribe. That's an honor above anything else. Don't _ever_ doubt yourself for not being like everyone else. I wouldn't have it any other way."

I cry openly now, and it feels so good to let everything free. To let it all out. How long had it been since I'd just sat with Mom and just _talked?_ Years, probably.

¨Can you _move?"_ whines Seth. ¨This is the best part and you're blocking the screen!"

¨You idiot," I say, laughing through the tears. Looking at my family and having the three of us here together...it almost feels like everything will be okay again.

* * *

 **A/N: Two chapters in a week?! Yep! I've been in an insanely good mood lately so I thought I'd pump out another chapter. I didn't think you guys would mind. :)**


	13. Eunoia

**13 | eunoia**

 **a well mind; beautiful thinking**

There's a knock at the door and Mom goes to open it. Expecting it to be Jake or one of the other wolves, I scrub at my face with my sleeve and follow her to the door.

To my surprise, Emily walks in, a basket of freshly-baked bread tucked underneath her arm. She looks to me, and her expression softens. "You're back."

Unsure of how to respond, I just nod. Seeing her back here, in my house, after so long...it's odd, to say the least.

She sets her basket down. "I'm glad. Wedding planning without you has been a mess. Out of all my bridesmaids," she says conspiratorially, "you have the best taste." She gives an exaggerated wink.

I laugh out of pure politeness.

"Anyway, Sue, I just came to drop this off," she says to my mother, gesturing towards the basket. "Leah, I'll want to meet your imprint soon. I'm sure he's wonderful."

"He is." The sharp sting of defensiveness in my tone is obvious. I don't want Emily to meet Ethan. No matter what, the irrational fear that I'm going to lose him to her, like I did with Sam, gnaws at my mind.

"I'm glad you've found someone. You deserve it." She turns to leave.

Mom crosses her arms and turns towards me as soon as she leaves. "I want to meet this boy too," she orders.

"Me too!" Seth yells.

I roll my eyes. "I'll ask him if he can come over tonight."

"Tonight?" Mom's smile falters.

"Is there a problem?"

She hesitates before mumbling, "Charlie and I were going to go out tonight."

I press my lips together before forcing a smile and saying, "That's fine. I'll ask about tomorrow instead."

She shakes her head. "No, I want to meet him. Charlie and I can reschedule."

My forced smile slips into a genuine one. "Thanks."

She waves her hand. "It's no big deal. Just let me know what time he's coming over. I'll cook something. Oh, dear, what does he like to eat?"

"He'll eat anything, trust me," I laugh. I don't think Mom heard me, she's already dashing off.

I go toward my cell and tap on Ethan's contact. He picks up on the fifth ring. "Hey, Leah," he greets. "What's up?"

Something immediately seems off. "Is everything okay? You sound...tense."

"Observant, aren't you?" He sighs. "Just...things aren't going so well with my mom right now. Don't worry about it; trust me."

I want to push him on it, but if there's anything I've learned about Ethan is that he's just as stubborn as I am. I'll get it out of him sooner or later. "Alright, if you say so. But, Ethan, I'm always here if you want to talk."

"I know." He sighs again. "I don't mean to be rude, but was there a reason you called? Or did you just miss me?" he jokes.

"You wish. I called to ask if you'd want to come over for dinner tonight."

"Ooh, a date," he teases.

"Yeah, you took me on a date to meet your parent so I figured I'd do the same," I reply in a joking manner.

"Don't remind me," he groans. "That was a disaster."

"Don't be a dumbass. It was wonderful. And you better let me return the favor."

"Whatever you say. I'll come over at six?"

"Perfect. See you then."

I wander off to the kitchen and help Mom. We chat while we cook, discussing everything from Seth to the national debt. It feels surprisingly nice.

"I miss this," I muse out loud. "Just spending time with you like this. I feel like since I first phased, we haven't had a chance."

"I'm glad you're taking the time now," Mom murmurs.

I shrug. "I guess I've just been in a better mood ever since…" Ever since Ethan. I hate to admit it, but it's true.

Mom just smiles knowingly. "Go get dressed," she chides. "Tell Seth to, too, if he's feeling better."

I go see Seth, still decked out on the living room couch. "Looks like you're feeling better," I say. He's sitting up now, his eyes bright and his face free of pain.

"Yeah," he says, his focus on the TV. Poor kid has been forced to grow up so quickly, with Dad gone and phasing...it's nice to see him like this, lazing around and having fun like any normal fourteen-year-old.

I sigh and head to the shower.

* * *

Half an hour later, I'm looking at myself in the mirror one last time. I'm wearing the cleanest shirt I own and a pair of cutoff shorts—nothing too fancy. But then again, I didn't need to be fancy for Ethan. Still, for some reason, I can't help but double (then triple) check that my hair looks nice and my shirt isn't wrinkled.

The doorbell rings at six on the dot. I open it to see Ethan, smiling as always and clutching a bouquet of purple irises. "Oh, jeez," I groan. "You didn't have to bring me flowers. I was kidding about the date thing."

He rolls his eyes. "These are for your mom, you narcissist," he says, but his tone is light.

I laugh. "Come in."

He steps inside just as Mom comes out of the kitchen. "Ethan," she says. "It's such a pleasure to meet you."

"Mrs. Clearwater," he greets, holding out the bouquet of flowers as if he'd grown them himself. She accepts them gratefully, and then he—oh my _god—_ he kisses her hand. What is this, the nineteenth century?

"Kiss-ass," I mutter.

Mom glares at me. "Be nice!" she scolds. Ethan gives me a mischievous grin from behind her shoulder. I glare at him.

I introduce Ethan to Seth and we all sit down at the dining table. I can already see that Mom and Seth adore Ethan—who couldn't?

Ethan gets along with my family instantly. He fits right in. As he sits in the rickety chair, laughing with Mom about something or another, I swear that I can see a bit of Dad in him, in that moment. Something about him…just fills the gaping hole Dad left behind.

And then, just as quickly as he came, Ethan's getting up to leave (after, of course, offering to help Mom with the dishes. What a brownnoser). Mom and Seth give us some time alone as I walk him outside. "Thanks for the date," he jokes.

I roll my eyes. "Thank my mom, not me."

"Tell her thanks from me, then."

"I will."

There's a lull in the conversation as Ethan clears his throat and glances at his watch. "It's still pretty early."

"Hmm."

"Let's go to the beach," he grins.

"Are you serious? It's, like, nine."

"What, is it past your bedtime already?" he smirks.

"Shut up. Let's just go." I don't know why I agreed. I shouldn't have. If I've learned anything from being a part-time monster, it's that good things rarely happen at night.

We keep quiet as we walk, but it's not an awkward type of silence. That's just how it is with Ethan—things are always comfortable with him. As much as that worries me, it's also soothing.

"It's a beautiful night," he murmurs as the flat expanse of sand comes into view.

"It's always like this."

He clears his throat, embarrassed. "Sorry. I haven't been able to see the stars for a while...being in the city."

Now I'm the one who's embarrassed. "When I was little," I whisper, changing the topic, "I would go to the beach with my Dad all the time. This was before Seth was born, so it was just the two of us. We'd lay down in the sand and look up at the sky, and he'd point out all the constellations to me." My voice cracks a bit at the end, and I feel my face heat. Why am I telling him this? I don't think Seth even knows this.

Just like always, Ethan is the master of reading emotions. "Tell me," he says, "what's your favorite star?"

I look up, scanning the sky until my eyes land on it. It's been years since I've even thought about it, yet there it is. A wave of nostalgia washes over me as I point. "Betelgeuse. Right in the shoulder of Orion."

He follows my finger with his eyes until his gaze settles upon it. "It's beautiful."

I don't know how long we stand there, shoulder to shoulder, looking up at Betelgeuse. It's the same star I've always seen, the same star that's always been there, but with him, tonight, it somehow looks different.

He squeezes my shoulder a while later. A spark of electricity zips up my spine at his touch. "We should get going," Ethan says softly.

I nod, and we start walking back. "Thank you," I say as my driveway comes into view. It's not much, but I have a feeling he'll understand what I'm really trying to say.

"Of course," he whispers. His eyes are warm and there's a smile playing on his lips. He's standing close. Too close. If this were a movie, this would be the part where he kisses me. But I don't want him to.

Just as I think he actually _is_ going to kiss me, I give him an awkward half-hug. "See you tomorrow?"

He nods, purses his lips, and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Goodnight, Leah."

"'Night."

I stumble up the walkway, giving him one last glance before I shut the door behind me.


	14. Selcouth

**14 | selcouth**

 **strange, unusual, rare; unfamiliar; marvellous, wondrous.**

A sharp jab to my ribs sends my eyes flying open as I fall into a sprawled heap onto the floor. "What the _hell?"_

As I rub the sleep from my eyes, a familiar face swims into view. "Do you know what day of the week it is?" he snaps.

"I swear to god, Jacob, if you came here and shoved my ass out of bed just to ask that, I will _strangle_ you."

"It's Friday," he spits. "Yesterday was Thursday."

"Wow, _really?"_

"Stop with the sarcasm. You were supposed to patrol last night!"

Oh, shit. He's right. "I forgot," I say nonchalantly.

"You _forgot?_ That leech that attacked Seth is still out there, and you left the border completely open! We might as well have sent her a damn invitation!"

"Calm down, okay? It won't happen again."

"What were you doing last night, anyway? You never miss patrol."

"I was...busy." My voice lilts at the end, giving away what I was really doing.

"Of course. _Ethan._ You lovesick idiot."

"Shut _up._ You know I don't like him in that way." His brow crumples. "Is that bad?" I ask, suddenly alarmed.

"Everyone else with an imprint their age is in love. Sam and Emily, Jared and Kim, Paul and Rachel...Quil and I are exceptions, but when Ness and Claire are old enough, we'll be the same way."

I sigh and let my head fall into my hands. "Great. Another way I'm different from the rest of the pack."

"Maybe you're, like, suppressing it."

"The imprint? Is that even possible?"

"I dunno. Ask my dad."

I roll my eyes. " _So_ helpful."

"Come on, we'll go ask now."

I stand up and follow Jake out the door. "Have you ever heard of someone suppressing an imprint?"

"No, but it's probably happened before, right? I mean, not everyone could've been happy with who they imprinted on."

"I guess," I mumble in response as we step through the front door. Billy is sitting at the Blacks' rickety dining table, drinking coffee and poring over the morning newspaper. "Hey, Billy," I greet, taking a seat.

"Leah," he nods. "What brings you here so early in the morning?"

"I, uh, had a question. About imprinting."

He nods as if he already knows what I'm going to ask.

"Is it possible to, like, suppress an imprint?" The question feels dumb on my lips, and I cringe.

He sets his newspaper down with a thoughtful gaze. "It is, but it's incredibly difficult to. I can only think of one such case. It didn't end well."

"What do you mean?"

Billy gives me a grave look. "The wolf imprinted on the wife of one of the tribal elders. He knew there would be no forgiveness from the elder if he were to act upon the imprint, and that he would face severe punishment. With no other choice, the wolf ran north. But his imprint's pull kept calling to him. Determined not to give in, the wolf ran further and further, but the pull only seemed to grow stronger with distance. He soon grew mad, and hell-bent on avoiding the imprint, he eventually threw himself off a cliff to his death."

I hear Jacob's sharp breath, mirroring my own.

"Is this related to your imprint on the Rivers boy?" Billy asks.

"Sort of. Jacob seems to think I'm fighting the imprint."

Billy turns to his son in question. "She doesn't love him in the way the rest of us love our imprints," Jake says. "Not as a mate, or a brother, or a friend."

Billy purses his lips. "Is this true, Leah?"

I shrug, my face red from his skeptical gaze.

"It seems you are fighting it, then, even subconsciously."

"What if I don't want to stop?"

Billy raises a thick black brow in question.

"I don't want things to change," I say slowly. "No offense, but all the pack members are so _different_ after they've imprinted. I mean, look at Jake. He was so obsessed with the Swan girl before, and now he's forgotten about her like _that?"_ I say with a snap of my fingers. "And Paul—people are describing his as _calm_ after he's imprinted on Rachel. I mean, that's not him at all. That's just so...scary."

Billy's ink-black eyes gleam. "It may seem like that," he replies. "But remember, an imprint is your other half. You are your true self when you are with your imprint, not the other way around. That's why the wolves who imprint are much more powerful than their unattached counterparts. The imprint unlocks your true potential."

I purse my lips. It was true that the pack members who had imprinted were stronger than those who hadn't. I guess Billy's words did hold some truth. "Fine," I sigh. "I'll try to 'accept it,' or whatever. No promises on anything happening, though."

I bid farewell to the duo before I stalk out of the Blacks' house. Ironically, I bump right into Ethan, almost knocking the grocery bags he's carrying out of his arms. "Hey," I greet, grabbing at the bags to steady them.

A brilliant smile overtakes his features. "Hey, what are you doing here?"

I jab a thumb at the house behind me. "Just hanging out with Jake and Billy. Job stuff. What about you?"

He clears his throat and shifts his weight. "Just at the store. I was just walking back."

"Mind if I walk with you?"

"Not at all."

The narrow sidewalk forces us to walk close together, shoulders brushing together every other step. His touch is different from anyone else's, from my mom's or Seth's or Jake's, but it doesn't feel like what an imprint's touch should feel like. There's no cascade of sparks, there's no sudden warmth. Not like last night. I swallow. It feels like I'm in limbo, on the cusp between imprinting and not-imprinting. Do I want to go over the edge? I might as well try, I suppose. How am I supposed to do this?

It feels incredibly creepy, but I force myself to relax and watch him out of the corner of my eye, just taking him in. The squareness of his jaw. The slight crookedness of his smile. The model-like narrowness of his nose. The gentle, familiar warmth in his eyes.

And then, without even trying, I see him beyond the surface. I see his ever-cheerful nature. His strong morality. His empathy towards everyone. And his flaws—his stubbornness, his impulsiveness, his slight arrogance. All the things which make him...Ethan.

A sharp pain wracks my skull, and a sudden dizziness overtakes me. I gasp and stumble as the world seems to tilt on its axis. Ethan wraps an arm around my waist, catching me with a concerned "Are you okay?" I look up to tell him that I'm fine, but my breath catches in my throat. My heart rate picks up, echoing and pounding in my ears like it is a separate creature altogether.

The last thing I see is the ground rushing towards me as I let myself fall.


	15. Pluperfect

**15 | pluperfect**

 **utterly perfect or complete**

I hear his heartbeat before I open my eyes. I don't know how I know it's his; I just do. It thuds erratically, much faster than what I would imagine a normal human heartbeat should beat at. He's panicked, and that brings me worry.

I open my eyes and look up. I'm laying down on a couch of some sort. I turn on my side to look at him. And oh, my god. It's like seeing him for the first time.

His eyes. Two shards of obsidian warm and wide with concern. I could get lost in them for hours. His brow is furrowed over them, and a thin coating of sweat covers his face. "Leah?" he asks. His voice. My name. "Are you okay?"

I blink and snap back into reality. "Am I okay?" I echo dumbly. "What happened?"

He purses his lips, and I think I melt a little inside. "You fainted on me," he says, his tone good-natured, but worried. He's worried? About me?

"Sorry," I croak out.

He reaches up and brushes a lock of hair out of my face. Sparks explode where he touches me, and I close my eyes to relish it. "No need to apologize," he says, and even with my eyes closed, I can imagine his crooked smirk.

I look up at him again, and a rush of warmth hits. And I swear—all the stupid love songs I've heard, all the cheesy novels, all the sappy poems—they're right. They're all right. This is what it feels like to be in love.

"Uh...Leah?" Ethan asks, looking more than a little confused at me drooling at the sight of him.

Of course. He doesn't know about any of this, about what a monumental shift has happened between us. I snap my eyes towards the ground, my face heating with embarrassment. I clear my throat. "Sorry. Yeah, I'm fine. I don't know what happened."

"Maybe I should take you to the hospital."

"No!" I hiss. The last thing I want right now is to see the doctor over nothing.

Ethan's brows raise in surprise. "Okay...are you sure you're okay? You're acting strange."

"I'm fine. Just...feeling lightheaded."

And then he's bringing me a glass of water. As I drink, he asks, "What do you want to eat? I'll make you something."

"I'm fine," I insist. More than fine with him around.

But it's too late, he's already standing up and walking towards his kitchen. I follow him with my eyes, and sigh when he turns the corner and disappears out of sight.

I sit up and blink until the black spots disappear. The place is unfamiliar, but the pictures of a young boy who I recognize as Ethan decorating the walls tells me it's probably his mom's house.

I stand up to get a better look at the photos. A few are clearly staged, with Ethan looking stuffy in a suit of some sort, but most of them are of Ethan and Isabelle being reckless. I smile at one in particular—Ethan, probably around fifteen or sixteen, standing haphazardly on a large boulder with his arms spread as if he owns the world.

"Oh, god, please don't look at those," his voice says. I turn to see him carrying a plate of toast, eggs, and bacon towards me. I gratefully accept it. "I keep telling my mom to take those down, but she refuses."

"I think they're cute," I grin.

He rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. "I'll get you some copies to hang in your room."

"Thanks," I mutter sarcastically, but the smile on my face mirrors his.

"Eat! I didn't make you breakfast for nothing," he fake-scolds. "Well, I guess it's more like brunch, now."

I oblige and shovel a forkful of eggs in my mouth. "Oh my god, these are amazing," I exclaim after swallowing. "Why is everything you make so damn good?"

"Just one of my many talents," he says, winking.

As Ethan watches with a pensive silence, I wolf down the rest of the meal. Speaking of wolf—it was undeniable now. I would have to tell Ethan eventually. I want to spend the rest of my existence with him, and I can't do that without revealing one of the most important things about me—and that's not even including the imprint. _Hey, Ethan, I just happen to turn into a giant ass wolf from time-to-time. Also, you're kind of my soulmate and will have to deal with my wolfish tendencies for the rest of our lives. No big deal._ I smirk.

"What?" he asks cautiously. I never noticed before how he presses his palms together when he's worried, or how his brow scrunches up ever-so-slightly. But now.

I purse my lips. I don't want to tell him, but I want to get it over with. If only there were some way he could just _know._

I almost facepalm when it dawns on me. The bonfire, duh! Ethan could quickly learn the legends, and I would just have to help him connect the dots from there. "Ethan?" I ask, his voice honey on my tongue.

"Yeah?"

"What's the date?"

He widens his eyes, exaggerating. "Wow, you fell hard, but I didn't know it was _that_ hard."

"Ha ha. Seriously."

"It's January 13th. Is that all you need to know? Or should I remind you of your name as well?"

I smile. I'm pleased to find we still have the same lighthearted banter as before—only now, my heart is going about a thousand beats a second. I count the days. "Are you free on February 11th?" I ask.

"As far as I know. Why?"

"There's a bonfire down by the beach then. Kind of a tribe tradition. Wanna go?"

"Sure," he says, and whether consciously or subconsciously, shifts closer to me.

The toast sticks in my throat. He is in the gray area, just close enough to make me want him, but not close enough to satisfy the need. And then his warm, soft hand is on my knee. "Are you sure you're okay? You look kind of...peaky."

"I'm…" I can't even focus with him so close, knowing I can't touch him in the way I want to. It would feel wrong, doing it without telling him the whole truth. "I'm fine." I grip my plate tighter.

He swallows thickly. He feels it, too. The tension, the desire. I set the plate down, slip my hand into his. Just enough to satiate both of us. And so we sit like that, my hand in his and our thighs pressed together, looking out the window and wishing we could stay like this forever.


	16. Limerence

**8 | limerence**

 **the state of being infatuated or obsessed with another person**

January 21st was the day Ethan Rivers kissed me under the stars.

In the days after the 13th, we took up the habit of watching sunsets down at First Beach. Here, we slowly spilled our hearts out to each other, baring our souls as we shared all our in-between dreams and late-night fantasies.

January 21st was no different. He was already at the beach when I finished patrol, unsuccessfully attempting to skip stones on the gentle waves. "Flick your wrist more," I called out as I approached.

He snapped his wrist, and the pebble bounced thrice before succumbing to the water.

We made our way to our log, the one we'd sit on with the perfect view of the sunset. I ran my fingers over my name in the wood, which Ethan had engraved a few nights ago. I rested my head on his shoulder as he sighed. "How was work?" he murmured against my hair.

"Boring."

He sighed again. "I don't get why you don't quit."

"What would I do all day? I'd be bored out of my mind."

His hand found mine and squeezed. "You could come see the world with me."

"I can't leave my Mom and Seth, Ethan."

"I know," he said, a hint of disappointment in his tone. "Just a 'what-if.'"

"I would if I could," I said. If I wasn't bound to La Push through my wolf form.

He stroked my hair in response. We sat and watched the colors in silence, the pinks and oranges and reds all framing the yellow sun.

As the sky turned dark and pinpoints of light began to appear, he nudged my shoulder and pointed. "Betelgeuse," he whispered. I smiled. I had been teaching him how to identify the stars like Dad taught me, and he always made sure to point out my favorite.

"You're getting better at this," I replied.

"Thanks to you."

I nuzzled further into his shoulder. "Leah…" he started, then stopped.

I turned my face towards his. "What's wrong?"

It took me a while to realize he was slowly tilting his face towards mine, giving me enough time to pull away if I wanted to. I was hesitant—anyone with eyes could see that we loved each other, but only those with knowledge of tribal history would know the imprint was the reason why.

I knew one thing for sure, though: Ethan was above all. Pulling away would mean hurting his feelings. So I stayed still, and let his lips touch mine.

I'd kissed Sam hundreds of times before, but that was nothing to me now. My desire for Ethan flared with our first non-platonic touch. I clutched at him, never wanting to escape our little bubble of perfection.

"I love you," he murmured between soft kisses along my jaw. "I love you."

I froze. No, this was too soon. He had to know first, know about who I really am. He could not love human Leah without knowing wolf Leah. So I pushed him off me, feeling a horrible sense of dirtiness like I'd just been caught cheating, and let out a choked apology before walking away.

Today is January 22nd. Ethan has kept calling and texting me, even came to the house this morning, where my mother let him in but I refused to open my bedroom door. "Did I do something?" he pleaded. "I'll leave you alone. Just tell me why." After getting no response, he left.

So now, I've laid in bed since morning, feeling like I'm a horrible person and yet having no idea how to fix things.

* * *

 **A/N: I'm back! I know I wasn't gone for very long, but I needed the break. Thanks to those who stuck around.**


	17. Redamancy

**17 | redamancy**

 **the act of loving in return**

Three more days pass, and Ethan makes no effort at contact. I leave the house only for patrol, and stay curled up in my bedroom otherwise.

Now, there's a knock on the bedroom door. "Hi. It's me." It's _his_ voice, and I almost sag in relief. Going days without seeing him has been brutal. He sighs. "I'm going back to California, Leah."

He's going back. He's going to leave me and go to San Francisco, while I'm stuck in La Push. If he leaves, I will never see Ethan Rivers again.

"I would have stayed, you know," he says, and I can imagine him while saying it—hands shoved into his pockets, eyes cast downwards, biting down on his front teeth, "for you."

I roll over in bed, but make no move towards the door.

"Can you...just tell me what I did wrong?" he asks. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Oh, Ethan. "It's not your fault," I rasp out.

Only the sound of his breathing fills the air for a moment. "Then what is it, Leah?"

When I can't formulate an answer, he sighs. "Whatever. I… bye." His footsteps retreat down the hall as the front door slams shut behind him.

I squeeze my eyes shut. I have to tell him. I have to; or I'll lose him. Telling him is terrifying, but losing him would be devastating.

I jump out of bed and throw open the window. "Ethan!" I call.

He turns, hesitantly steps forward. "Come inside," I tell him. "We need to talk."

He disappears out of sight, comes back a moment later through the front door. I let him into my room. It's horribly messy, trashed with tissues and paper plates, but I couldn't care less right now.

He takes a hesitant seat at the edge of my bed, his eyes not wandering around the room, but focused on me.

"I'm sorry," I blurt. "I'm sorry for what happened. But there's a reason, I promise."

His brow furrows. God, where do I even start? "I. . .Ethan. I pushed you away yesterday because. . ." I take a breath, "there's a pretty big part of my life that you don't exactly know about. And I think you should know about it before we. . ."

"Move forward in this relationship?" he supplies.

I nod. "Right. Exactly. So, um. . .do you know any of the Quileute legends?"

He frowns at the turn in conversation, but nods. "I've heard a couple."

"Do you know about Taha Aki and the spirit warriors?"

He looks at the ceiling, trying to remember. "I think so. Yeah, I do."

"Good. Good. That's good," I ramble. "All those legends? They're real."

He looks baffled. "You mean the spirit warriors were a real thing?"

"No, I. . . I mean they _are_ a real thing. Right now."

There's a beat of silence. "That's impossible," he murmurs. "Those are just old folk tales."

"No. . . no. They're real. I promise."

"How do you know?" he asks, skeptical.

"Because all of us, Seth and Jacob and Sam and I and all the others. . . we're shapeshifters. Descendants of Taha Aki."

There's no way to describe his expression besides _WTF?_ "Uh. . ." he starts, his gaze shifting to my knee.

"I know it sounds far-fetched, but it's true; I promise. I can prove it to you later."

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, looking oddly like a fish. He settles on "Okay."

"Okay? That's it?"

He takes a deep breath. "Well, I don't think you're insane enough to believe this if it's not true. And I don't know why you'd lie about it. So I believe you. . . for now. I'll still want to see that proof later."

I grin for a moment, feeling like the weight of the world has been lifted off my shoulders, until I remember there's still more. "There's something else, too," I murmur.

He laughs and shakes his head. "Go ahead. I don't think there's anything weirder than what you just told me."

I grimace, but continue. "Do you remember the legend of the Third Wife?"

His face screws up in concentration. "She's the one who sacrificed herself for Taha Aki? And he mourned her until he died?"

I nod. "Right. Right. He had a special connection with her that he didn't have with any of the other wives. We call it imprinting."

"Imprinting," he repeats. "Like soul mates?"

"Sort of. It's kind of complicated."

He lets his head fall into his hands. "Don't tell me this is real too."

"Sorry," I wince. "Imprinting is like. . . when you'd do anything for one particular person, _be_ anything for a person. A friend, a guardian. . . a lover. Whatever they need."

"And you. . . 'imprinted.'" It isn't a question. His tone is flat with an edge of sharpness.

I look down, heat rushing to my face. He doesn't want this. Of course he wouldn't. "Sorry," I muster.

"I just wish you'd told me beforehand," he mutters bitterly.

"I know. I'm sorry. I couldn't bring myself to."

"I mean, I made a fool of myself thinking we had a chance."

"What?"

"But I'm happy for you, I really am."

It dawns on me. "Ethan, you _dumbass,"_ I laugh. He looks up, startled. "I imprinted on _you."_

His eyes widen. "Me?"

"Yes, you."

"Really?"

"Yes, _really."_

I watch his expression shift from awe into understanding as all the pieces fall into place. "That's why you were in San Francisco."

"You aren't. . . mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"You have no _choice._ You're bound to me for the rest of your life."

He smiles. "Leah Clearwater, there is no one I would want to spend eternity with rather than you."

And somehow. . . I smile back.


	18. Vulnerability

**18 | vulnerability**

 **the quality or state of being exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally**

"Stay here."

"I _know."_

"Don't scream."

"Leah, you have told me this five times already. I won't run, I won't scream, I won't faint."

I take a breath. "Alright. Give me a second." I retreat behind a tree and begin to strip with only a moment of hesitation.

After I let the cat out of the bag, Ethan demanded to see me in wolf form. I was hesitant to comply—I'd heard of several of the guys' imprints doing anything from shouting to passing out when first seeing a wolf.

I peer out behind the tree, and seeing that Ethan is still there, close my eyes and let myself transform. Seconds later, I shake out my coat, flick my tail, and slowly step out, holding my breath.

Since he's facing the other way, he doesn't see me at first. I whine gently and he turns, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise as he instinctively steps back. He's been taught to fear wolves his whole life; this is understandable.

I stand my ground, waiting for him to make the first move. We stand opposing each other for a few seconds until he slowly steps forward, awe in his eyes, reaching up to touch my nose with a shaking hand. I nudge his hand gently, silently telling him that it's okay. He slowly runs a hand through the light gray fur on my neck, and reaches to touch my ears. "That day, in the woods," he whispers, "when I was with my sister. That was you, wasn't it?"

I'd forgotten about that. I nod as best as I can.

He makes a slow round around me, as if still not believing I am the same person. When he comes back around again, he takes a breath. "Can we. . . talk?"

I swish my tail and head back behind the tree, and get dressed before emerging. Ethan's eyes crinkle as he smiles. It's a bit uneasy. "That was…"

"Weird?"

"Definitely," he sighs. "It's going to take some getting used to."

I take his hand. "We have all the time in the world for that."

He squeezes my hand in return.

* * *

February 11th brought the day of the bonfire—and a week before Emily's wedding.

Emily is in full-fledged wedding panic mode, and dragged Sam into her last-minute plans. Fortunately, this means that Sam and Emily are both missing the bonfire, something I'm grateful for.

I run a hand through my hair, checking myself in the mirror one last time. "Leah?" comes Seth's voice. "Ethan's here!"

"Coming!" I yell back, skittering down the hallway. I smile as soon as I see him, feeling the rush of endorphins, my muscles relaxing.

"Ready to go?" Ethan asks. I nod. He takes my hand as we walk down to the beach, the sunset setting everything, from the sloping roofs to the streets, alight in shades of orange and gold. Seth trots on Ethan's other side, rambling.

Billy, Jake, Quil, and Old Quil are already there when we arrive. I pull a log up to the roaring fire, seating myself on the sand between Ethan's knees. He's already heard the legends, of course, but he thought it would be interesting to hear them knowing they're true.

The rest of the pack, elders, and imprints quickly join us. Billy clears his throat, and a silence settles.

Ethan isn't the only new person here. Tiffany Call is here, just learning the truth about her son. So is little Claire, finally old enough to understand the legends in full.

Billy, in his rumbling, rich tone, starts retelling the tales. I lean back again Ethan's knees and close my eyes. I've long since stopped listening to the legends—I already know them like the back of my hand. The atmosphere is always calming, though.

I lazily watch Ethan's face as he listens with fresh ears. He's totally immersed, and looks down at me every once in awhile as if to say, _Can you believe this?_ I hide my smile. He's still not used to the idea that this fantasy is my reality.

I'm just dozing off when a sharp smell permeates the air. Is that…? "Vampire," Jacob spits, standing up.

We all know what to do. Jake goes tearing off across the sand, Seth hot on his heels. Panic flutters through my mind-a vampire? Here? _Now?_ Is it the one that hurt Seth a few weeks ago? Jake said she'd left the area, but…

"Kim," I order, turning to the girl sitting next to Jake. She looks bewildered; I don't think I've said two words to her since she became part of the pack. "Take Ethan to Emily's." She nods.

I turn to Ethan. "Stay at Emily's. You'll be safe."

"But what about you?"

"I'll handle this. I'll be fine. _Go."_ Giving him one last look, I trot across the back towards the woods. With fumbling fingers, I peel off my clothes and tie them to my ankle. As I phase, the sickly-sweet scent intensifies. _What's going on?_ I ask mentally.

 _Vampire. Not the same one that hurt Seth,_ Embry explains. _We don't know why he's here._

 _Carlisle says he's not a guest of the Cullens',_ Seth's voice comes in.

 _Leah, Quil, take the east border. Seth and Embry, take west. I gotta go find Sam,_ chimes in Jake. His presence in my mind flickers out as he phases back.

 _Where is his pack?_ Embry complains. _I don't see Paul or Jared anywhere._

 _We don't need them,_ Quil growls.

 _Shut_ up. _We need to focus._ My beta command rings throughout the minds of the others. I'm running, Quil lagging behind me, when I turn a corner and the scent hits me like a brick wall. Digging my heels in, I screech to a stop. Quil follows. _He's here. Embry, Seth, circle around the other side. We can take him down easily._

I peer through the trees. A dark-haired leech with olive skin is hunting. I can smell his human prey from here, a lone hiker, perhaps. He's too caught up in the hunt right now, perfect. We can finish him off easily.

 _We see him,_ Seth notifies me, his voice faint.

 _On three, we pounce,_ I order. _Three... two…_

The leech, catching our scent, turns his head with a snarl. His red eyes bore into mines, and I know, without a doubt, he sees me. To my surprise, he speaks directly—"What are you?" he hisses in shock.

I growl at him and lunge in response. But as soon as my paws leave the floor, in an impossibly fast reaction time, he zips to the other end of the clearing. _What the hell?_

"Don't bother," the bloodsucker grins. "You will never catch me."

Nonetheless, I lunge again. Like before, he runs as soon as I leap, as if… as if he knows what I'm going to do before I can do it.

 _A mind reader?_ Embry questions.

 _I doubt it. He hasn't noticed the three of you yet; he would have known if he could read my mind,_ I retaliate.

 _A seer,_ Seth says. _He has to be._

"I don't want to hurt you," the thing says. "Not yet, anyway. Why don't we talk and then I'll decide?"

Damn it, where was Jake when you needed him? _Should I?_ I ask warily.

 _We should see what he wants,_ Seth says.

 _We're right behind you if anything happens,_ Quil reminds me.

I sigh and nod at the creature before retreating behind a tree. When I'm dressed, I step back around.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Interesting," he murmurs. "A shapeshifter. I'd heard legends; I wasn't aware they were true. But I heard only men could shift…"

"I'm the exception," I snap back. "Tell us what you want, _now,_ or we won't hesitate to rip you apart."

He grins. "You won't be able to catch me," he taunts.

"Why are you in our territory?"

" _Your_ territory? I was told this was the territory of the Cullen clan."

"Our boundary touches theirs. They said they don't know you."

He cocks his head, intrigued. "You're in correspondence with them?" I nod. "I heard our kind and your kind are supposed enemies."

How does he know so much? "We have an… alliance," I respond.

"An alliance? Interesting," he muses. "I approach the Cullens because I hear they're quite a powerful clan. A threat to the Volturi, even, they say."

"What do you want with them, then?"

He flashes his white teeth. "You see, a group of… _acquaintances_ and I have decided the Volturi have reigned for _far_ too long."

"And you want the Cullens' help in taking them down," I finish.

"Precisely. However, after seeing _you,_ I feel we can have extra allies as well, perhaps."

"You're wrong if you think we'll help you."

"Don't you hate the Volturi?"

"They cause us no harm."

His mouth twists in contempt. "I'll approach the Cullens, then. Maybe you'll change your mind once your allies join us."

"They won't, either."

"We'll see about that." Before I can respond, he flies off into the woods. "Ugh!" I exclaim.

The three boys emerge from the trees in human form. "I'll go warn the Cullens," Seth volunteers and runs off.

"Quil, go with him," I order. He nods and follows. "Come on," I say to Embry. "We're going to Emily's."


	19. Alluring

**19 | alluring**

 **powerfully and mysteriously attractive or fascinating**

Emily's house is just as I remember it: all weathered blue, with a garden of yellow and orange marigolds the only break in the gloominess. I knock on the scuffed wooden door. It is opened immediately by a hassled Emily. "What's going on?" she cries.

I step inside to an audience. Most of the imprints and elders are there, as well as Sam's pack. My eyes find Ethan's, brown and wide with confusion. I give him a glance and turn to Sam. "Where the _hell,"_ I ask, seething, "have you been?"

He glares in response. "Out of town," he says, "for wedding planning."

"And your pack?"

"Scattered. They couldn't gather in time."

I roll my eyes. "There's a leech," I address the crowd. "Alone for now, but he claims he has a coven of others. We don't know if the female vampire who hurt Seth was associated with him. He wants to discuss matters with the Cullens about… about bringing down the Volturi."

"Is he a threat to us?" Sam asks.

"I'm not sure. He didn't try to attack… yet."

Jacob stands. "I think we're safe for now. But be wary," he warns.

With that, there's murmurs and movement as everyone exits Emily's. Ethan catches my arm—a warm, familiar burst—and pulls me outside. "What the hell?" he asks. "Vampires, Leah? Seriously?"

I wince. "So, I forgot to mention…"

"You were fighting a _vampire._ A vampire!"

"Calm down," I reassure him. "I'll explain." He crosses his arms, frowns in anticipation. "Vampires are real, but they're not like you think. They can go out in the sun, they don't sleep in coffins, none of that bullshit. But they do drink blood, and can be dangerous." He opens his mouth, but I shake my head. "Listen. There's this family in this area, the Cullens. We have a treaty with them. They only hunt animals and stay off our land, and we don't kill them. But once in a while they attract _visitors_ who don't live like them, who prey on humans. It's my job to protect people from them."

He lets out a long breath. "One of these vampires was what hurt Seth the day we came to La Push."

I nod. "Right. Shapeshifters are naturally stronger, but the leech caught Seth alone and off-guard—he couldn't defend himself."

"And he healed so fast afterwards. That's because of this shapeshifting?"

"Yes. We heal fast. It's also why our body temperature is so high, and why we're so tall."

He runs a hand through his hair, shakes his head. "I think I always knew."

"What?"

He sighs. "That there was something… _abnormal_ about this place. It's different than anywhere else I've been. But now that I understand…" He sighs. "There's always been something different about La Push. Things feel like a fantasy here."

"I'm going to be honest, Ethan. This fantasy is now your reality. You're part of the pack, now."

He smiles. "The pack," he murmurs. "I like that."

I twine my fingers with his and squeeze. "There's nothing like it."

* * *

The pink chiffon is unfamiliar in my hands. A dusty rose color, long and flowy, the bridesmaid dress is the extreme opposite of anything I'd worn since shifting. "Have you tried it on?" calls my mother from outside my bedroom.

I sigh and step into the dress, reaching behind me to zip it up as the skirt brushes against my bare legs. It feels snug but not overly so—a perfect fit. "Come in," I say to Mom.

She opens the door, tentatively peeks. "Oh my goodness," she gasps. "Look at you!"

I turn towards the mirror, expecting the dress to look awkward on my now-muscular body. Instead, it softens—I am no longer defined lines and sharp angles, but subtle curves. Even my face seems to lose his bluntness. I smooth the dress carefully. I look more feminine than I have in years, and I don't hate it. "You look beautiful, honey," my mother says.

I push onto my tiptoes, imagining the last time I wore a dress like this—when I was seventeen, when I could actually wear heels and my hair was down to my waist, about to go to the prom with Sam. When he'd swept me into his arms and we'd danced until our feet were sore, and I could imagine the future I foolishly thought the world had in mind for us.

My feet fall flat onto the ground. I am not seventeen again, and I am not in love with Sam.

I slowly take off the dress, hang it back carefully in my closet before slipping on my raggedy shorts and t-shirt. "One more day," I murmur.

Mom squeezes my shoulder. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"I'm over it, Mom."

She sighs. "You know what they say. . .you never truly forget your first love."

A bolt of annoyance flashes through my mind. She was right—you never did forget your first love. And tomorrow, he'd be marrying my ex-best friend.

"Ethan will be there," Mom reminds me. She's right. If anyone can keep me from going insane tomorrow, it's him.

She runs a hand through my hair. It's getting longer, almost to my shoulders now. "I can curl it for you in the morning, if you'd like."

I nod. "That would be nice."

I wish her goodnight before I brush and wash my face. As I get into bed, I contemplate about the coming day, wishing more than anything that Ethan was here.


	20. Enamor

**20 | enamor**

 **to fill or inflame with love**

The next morning is frantic, to say the least.

After breakfast and Mom accidentally giving me a nasty burn with a curling iron, we get dressed and head to Ethan's house. As Mom chats with Ethan's mom, I head to Ethan's bedroom. As I hear him talking to someone on the phone, though, I pause. "There's no way to cancel the ticket?" I hear him say, annoyance creeping in on his tone. "Are you sure?" As he feels my gaze on the back of his neck, he turns and abruptly hangs up. "Leah," he says softly. "You look beautiful."

I smile, but only for a moment. "Who were you talking to?"

"No one."

"Ethan."

He rolls his eyes. "They won't let me cancel my flight to Japan."

I bite my lip. I'd completely forgotten he was planning to go to Japan. "Why are you canceling?" I ask.

"You're insane if you think I'm leaving La Push now that I have you," he grins.

" _You're_ insane if you think I'm letting you cancel your travel plans because of me," I counter, at the same time the tiniest bit relieved he's not planning on leaving me. I don't think I could handle it.

"Come with me, then," he replies.

I sigh in frustration. "You know I can't leave La Push. Especially not now, when there's a leech in the area," I protest.

"Then I won't leave either," he says simply.

"No, Ethan," I protest, "you can't put your life on hold because I'm anchored here. What happened to seeing the world? Going back to school?"

He's silent for a moment. "Look, Leah," he says, "yes, that was all part of my life plan. But you know what? Sometimes life doesn't give us what we want. But I'm a lucky bastard, I guess, because I don't mind giving all that up. I have everything I could need here. My mom. Isabelle. _You._ You are my world."

"Leah?" I hear Mom call.

I sigh in frustration, slightly flustered by Ethan's confession. "Get dressed. We'll talk about this later," I tell him before stepping outside.

He wants to stay with me. He's picking me over Japan. No, scratch that, he's picking me over the rest of the world and all its wonders. But yet, there's a crushing amount of guilt in the pit of my chest—if this were a dream world where everything were perfect, he would ask me to come with him and I would have said yes in a heartbeat. I'd quit shifting immediately and work my ass off until I could afford to travel, and then we'd leave La Push and never look back.

But unfortunately, the universe was not in our favor. Until there was no threat to the area, until I could get my shifting under control, there would be no way I could leave for extended periods of time. And until then, I know Ethan wouldn't leave either.

He opens his bedroom door and steps out. "You look great," I say.

Ethan smiles in response. "You ready to go?"

I nod and take his hand.

* * *

It's a beautiful day for a wedding in La Push. The rain is holding back, and there's even a glimpse of the sun through the clouds. A soft breeze ripples through the tall grass of Billy's backyard.

Emily is just putting on a final touch of makeup as I find her in Billy's bathroom. "You look stunning," I compliment. She truly does—shining with the natural glow only a bride could have.

"So do you," she says, catching my reflection in the mirror. "You haven't curled your hair since, what, high school?" I touch my hair, suddenly self-conscious. "It looks good."

"Thank you. Are you nervous?"

"Not at all. I've been waiting for this day since Sam and I first got together," she blurts, then cringes as she remembers Sam and I's past. "Leah, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…"

"Don't worry about it, Emily. I'm happy for you and Sam, really."

She smiles and takes my hands in her own. "Thank you, Leah. You don't know how much that means to me."

As Emily's sister claims her attention, I slip outside.

* * *

Emily is a vision as she makes her way down the aisle. Her dress is simple—a white, tea-length gown—but still fitting. Sam is smiling like he just won the lottery. As they recite their vows, I think. I think about how I should be jealous, should be angry, but instead I feel… almost happy. It doesn't feel like the wedding of my ex-best friend and ex-boyfriend. Just my oldest childhood friend and the man who was there for me throughout high school. Just two people in love.

* * *

As Sam and Emily do their customary first dance, I find Ethan. "Hey," I say softly as we watch the newlyweds.

"Hi," he replies. "I'm glad we have a moment to talk. I wanted to check on you."

"Check on me? Why?"

"You know, with the wedding and all that… I know you and Sam—"

"Ethan," I say, turning towards him. "Whatever happened between Sam and I doesn't matter anymore. I don't love him, Ethan. I… I love _you."_ Heat rushes to my face as I realize what I've just admitted, but I also know I wouldn't take it back for the world.

A slow smile spreads across his face. "I love you, too," he whispers.

We watch as the other guests slowly make their way to the dance floor. "Dance with me?" Ethan whispers in my ear. So we do—we dance, we kiss, we laugh, we love.


	21. Fuse

**21 | fuse**

 **join or blend to form a single entity**

Dusk is settling upon La Push when Emily and Sam's guests begin to murmur their final congratulations and slowly disperse.

I lean against Ethan as we stand in silence, watching the setting sun. "Penny for your thoughts?" he murmurs.

"Nothing. I'm… just thinking about how happy I am. How lucky. I could have fallen in love a thousand times with a thousand different people and it still wouldn't amount to the love I have for you… for us."

His lips ghost over my forehead. "I just wish none of this wolf stuff existed."

There's a lump in my throat as I hear the yearning in his voice. And his yearning becomes mines, and we both want to wish it never happened _so badly._ "I'll quit," I whisper.

"You can do that?"

"I'll try my best. I'll stop phasing. I'll do it, Ethan. I want to live normally, too. I want to see the world with you and I want to settle down and get married and have a family."

"But the pack…"

"Screw it. They can survive without me." I can feel his hesitance. "I'm sure, Ethan. I don't think I've ever been more sure of anything."

Although rarely one for PDA, Ethan grabs me around the waist and turns me towards him before kissing me deeply, a kiss that embodies his silent thanks. "Come home with me," I blurt.

His brow furrows, uncomprehending.

"My mom is hanging out with Charlie tonight and Seth has patrol. We'll have the house to ourselves," I explain in a rushed breath.

His grip on my waist tightens. "Alright," he whispers.

* * *

At home, I lead Ethan to my bedroom and sit him down on the bed. "Leah," he murmurs in between kisses. "We don't have to do anything if you don't want to."

"I want to," I whisper, reaching behind me to pull down the zipper of my dress. And then rose-colored chiffon is down around my ankles, and I am bare in front of Ethan's gaze—the first time I've been this exposed in front of anyone since first shifting. I thought I would feel shy; I am no longer smooth skin and feminine curves as I was before, but hard muscle and scars. And yet, as Ethan's eyes take me in, I am relaxed.

He pulls me into his embrace and we fall onto the bed in a flurry of touches.

* * *

The next few weeks are pure bliss. Everyone seems to be in a good mood, from my mother to Emily to Jacob. But I am ecstatic.

I've officially left the pack. Jake was miffed, sure, but he understood—he would do the same for Renesmee, as any other wolf would do for their imprint.

Since I've had all this extra time, I've begun looking into enrolling into classes at the local community college. At this point, I have no idea what I want to do with the rest of my life. Having spent the last few years so constricted in my decisions, I'm not used to having this sort of freedom. I could learn anything, do anything, become anything.

But most of all, Ethan and I are doing great. Ever since that night after Emily's wedding, we've continued to explore our relationship sexually. But beyond that, since we've been spending more time together, we've become stronger than ever.

On this particular lazy Sunday, we're sitting on our log at the beach, hands entwined and my head against his shoulder. "I shouldn't stay so close to you," I murmur, "I might be getting sick."

"Sick? How?" he asks.

"I threw up this morning. I thought it might've been food poisoning at first, but I can't think of anything bad I ate recently. I don't feel sick besides the nausea, though, so maybe it was actually food poisoning."

"You should go to the doctor."

"Yeah, like any doctor wouldn't faint at the sight of my body temperature alone."

"Didn't you say that one of the Cullens was a doctor? Maybe you should go to him."

"I think I'd rather suffer through it than visit Dr. Fang," I respond.

I can almost feel him rolling his eyes in response. "Don't be stubborn," he chides, but his tone has a hint of humor in it. "If you throw up again, you're going to him."

"Fine," I sigh, knowing I probably won't.

* * *

Two days later, I throw up again.

"I'm going to call Carlisle," my mother declares as soon as I finish retching.

"I don't need a doctor," I insist. "I'm fine."

She glares at me as she reaches for her cell phone.

* * *

An hour later, I'm seated in the Cullens' spare room, under the poking and prodding of Dr. Fang. He asks questions which, when I stubbornly refuse to answer, my mother sighs and answers instead.

"Leah," he says, "when was your last period?"

This question surprises me, and is not one my mother can answer. Now that I think about it, it _has_ been a while. Or does it just feel that way? "I don't know," I respond.

He gives me a look. "Do you mind if we take a urine test?" he says.

Several minutes later, I'm struggling in the Cullens' bathroom. Several minutes after that, Dr. Fang enters the room with a strange look on his face. "Leah," he says gently, "I'm afraid… there's a significant chance that you're pregnant."


End file.
